Star Fox: Dark Coalition
by LoN3WolF396
Summary: As the Star Fox team moves closer to retirement, a unknown Venomian armada sends Lylat back to war. Although this rouge faction focuses on Cornerian targets, Fox will soon learn that he, his friends, and his family are the real targets. R&R! Thanks!
1. Prolouge: Peace, Prosparity, Death

Authors note: This is my first fan-fiction, so do please go easy on me. Any advice and constructive criticism would be appreciated. I don't own Star Fox or any of the characters or re-occurring elements (such as the Arwing, Landmaster, Great Fox, ect.). I will state characters anything owned by me in my profile. Also I'm adding a timeline into this fan-fiction, so BLW will be before the Lylat War and ALW will be after the war. Basically it's the BC and AD of the Star Fox universe. I'd personally like to thank my editors Freelancer 205 and my good friend Maxed.D for helping me actually make this happen. Thank you! Enjoy and please comment.

STAR FOX: DARK COALITION

PROLOGUE: PEACE, PROSPERITY, DEATH

0640 hours (6:40 am)

February 8, 26 ALW (After the Lylat War)

CSNF research station_ "Solace of Hope"_, Kandon orbit

Nicholas Fento's alarm clock blared in his ears. The feline was a heavy sleeper, but the annoying screech of the clock was a hard thing to ignore, unless you had nerves of steel. Nicholas rolled over lazily in his bunk and felt for the kill-switch on the clock. His paw felt the corner of his nightstand, so he reached farther up and finally felt the body of the clock.

"Oh shut up," said the groggy feline with his index finger on the alarm switch. The alarm suddenly died and Nicholas rolled onto his back and pulled the covers back over himself. Fento was back in his comfy spot and began to doze off when the intercom speaker in his quarters came to life saying, "Hey Nick! Wake up!"

The sudden voice caused Nicholas to jump and hit his head on the bunk above him. "Oh my God," Nick yelled into the ceiling speakers, his head throbbing, "Yeah, thanks for givin' me a migraine Conner! I really appreciate it!" Nick let his head fall into his hands. He had been on the research station "_Solace of Hope_" for three days now and had served on the station for almost five years, but he never could get used to his partner constantly waking him up like this. He hadn't even slept in for longer than forty seconds and yet Conner still persisted with the "early bird" routine. It was something he absolutely hated about Conner, but yet, Conner was one of Nick's best friends. Shoot, Conner had even been his best man at his wedding four years ago.

Nick got out of his bunk and grabbed his wrist communicator from his nightstand drawer. He scrolled through his list of contacts until hey found his partners name. Nick hit the "contact" bar on the touch screen of this communicator. A few seconds later Conner's voice answered with one of his morning pick-me-up lines: "Good morning sunshine! And how are we today?"

"How am I? You idiot! Not only did you scare me to death you caused me to hit my head on your bunk," Fento rummaged through his closet and grabbed a gray T-shirt that had "CSN Research Group" stenciled on it and a pair of black pants.

"Ah come on…," Conner said through Nick's communicator, "…it couldn't have hurt that bad."

"Hey I have an idea. How 'bout next time I slam your head into your bunk and you can tell me how much it hurts smartass," Nick yelled into the receiver.

Nick and Conner were members of the Cornerian military's colonization operation of the planet Kandon, a small, frigid planet within the Lylat System. After the Anglar War, much of Lylat suffered incredible losses. Much of Corneria was still being rebuilt, even after eight years had passed. Kandon was being set up as a secret first-response base that would answer to any kind of act of war, and there had already been plenty of those in the last two decades.

Many of the wars in Lylat were caused by the Venomians, all beginning when Andross, once a great scientist of Lylat, turned on Corneria and was later banished to Venom, left to die on its barren surface. For a couple years things were peaceful. The acting General at the time, General Pepper, knew how dangerous the scientist was and knew he would not take being disgraced lightly, so he kept a close eye on everything coming in and out of Venom. At first there was nothing, but later all kinds of alarms were going off because of Venom. Scout ships spying on the planet detected large power fluctuations from the planet's surface. Unknown spacecraft were sighted patrolling above the planet's atmosphere. Many scout ship pilots were listed as "MIA" because they just disappeared while spying on the planet.

But the war was later put to an end by the heroism of the Star Fox team: a group of mercenaries who patrolled the Lylat system waiting to be called upon to give help when needed. Eight years ago, before the Anglar War broke out; Lylat was crushed to find out that the heroes of Star Fox had disbanned, each one having their reasons. But they later reunited and were able to stop the opposing threat. After the Anglar War peace finally returned to Lylat, and since then everything had been quiet.

Fento's boots made a rhythmic thumping as he walked through the hallways of the _Solace_. Dangling from a black leather string around his neck was a square gray stone that his three year old daughter, Leah, had found and given him when his family had gone on vacation a month ago. Not a day went by when Nick was gone from home that he didn't miss his daughter and his wife, so having that rock around his neck always gave him hope that he would see them again

Fento rounded a corner in the hall and came to a door labeled "Research Lab A-4". On the wall next to the door was a small terminal with a small keyboard and screen. Nick placed his finger on the keyboard and typed in his security code. A green light appeared on the panel next to the screen, showing that he had authorization. He then positioned his hand on the screen. A red light panned up and down his hand and when it disappeared a second light flashed on. The door slid open and merged into the wall. Fento walked in.

"Hey…," a dark gray wolf yelled as Nick walked in, "…look who finally decided to show up." The occupants in the lab looked over at Nick.

"Shut it, Conner," Nick snapped as he walked across the lab to his partner. Working across from Nick and Conner's station was a tan furred husky named Amy Carson, a pair of glasses perched upon her face. She looked up from a stone tablet she was working on and smiled at Nick.

"Good morning Nick. Did Conner give you another wake up call?" Nick turned his head to Conner who was trying as hard as he could to not break out in laughter. Then he turned back to the husky.

Nick sighed and said, "Yeah unfortunately he did. And he's lucky I don't skin him alive for it."

She laughed a bit and then said, "Well if it makes you feel any better he gave me a wake up call too."

'_Yeah but in what way?'_ Nick thought as he began to power up his laptop. Conner and Amy had been dating for at least two years, but Nick felt that their private life was none of his business. But it wasn't like he didn't care about the two of them. "What are you working on Amy?," Nick asked looking at the stone tablet on the examination table.

"It's a tablet some troops found on a patrol. The ruins they found this tablet in greatly resemble the stone cities on Titania. I was actually just about to compare these hieroglyphic markings to Titanain samples in the archives." There were dozens of small markings in different shapes; mainly all were lines crossing into one another. It was never known by whom the ruins were built and to this day people from all across Lylat were trying to figure out who had constructed the marvelous structures. It was even suggested that maybe there was once a race that was inhabited Lylat before the beginning of the anything that was currently around. But this theory was widely speculated and was often considered a fairy tale.

Fento was once a pilot in the Cornerian Space Naval Forces, serving in the end half of the Aparoid Conflict and then the Anglar War, after which hey retired as a pilot and then transferred to the reserves and then became a professor in Lylatian Planetary History. Conner was a specialist in Lylatian Biology as well as Paleontology, and Amy was an expert in Space Archeology. When the researchers were chosen to take station at Kandon, separate groups of researchers were placed into teams to study Kandon's different aspects.

For some odd reason the Brass decided to combine the History, Archeology, and Biology teams so that they could cover more subjects that were possibly inter-related. So while Conner studied any of the biological and prehistoric aspects of Kandon, Amy would research anything that could possibly point toward an intelligent race that may have once lived on the planet, and Nick would record anything and everything they discovered.

"Ok, what have we learned today kids?" a voice said from the entrance of the lab. Everyone turned to the major standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Major Dawson was a decorated war veteran who ran all operations at the base on Kandon while Admiral Mitchells ran the _Solace_. Today he was overseeing some heavy equipment that had to be transported to the base, so whenever he was aboard the _Solace_ he would check on the progress of the researchers. Dawson was a staggering 6'9, which meant he often had to duck down to get into many of the rooms in the _Solace_. The tall eagle was well into his fifties and had gray feathers from the top of his head to his neckline.

The major began making his way from each work station, reviewing every team's work and seeing how they themselves were doing. Dawson was often a very mysterious fellow, at least Nick thought so. But he was very friendly, quick witted, and often times flirted with the young and pretty naval girl's aboard the _Solace_, but they always respected him and never treated him like some creepy old buzzard. No, in fact he was the "life of the party" for the Kandon operation. He always knew how to cheer people up, give them wise advice, and always had a story from his war days, funny or otherwise.

Amy began rapidly typing on the keyboard of her computer to begin analyzing the tablet. Rays of red light began to scan the surface of the stone, moving up and down and left to right as it scanned the intricate patterns and designs that occupied the tablets surface. Amy watched her computer screen as a virtual 3D image of the tablet began to slowly appear on her screen. Conner bent down closer to the screen to see the last bit of the image materialize onto Amy's computer. The image rotated a few times and stopped with the writing and symbols facing Amy and Conner. Amy typed a few commands into the keyboard and every symbol on the stone was highlighted in light green color.

"Now let's see if you have any friends out there," Amy said to the tablet on her screen. She hit a few more keys and then a second window opened up on her computer containing a picture of the highlighted symbols and a small box that said "SEARCHING FOR MATCH". Amy sighed and said, "And now, we wait."

Dawson walked over to Nick, Conner, and Amy's work space. He noticed the tablet being scanned on the examination table. "Don't tell me that the only thing they can find down there are rocks, Miss Carson," Dawson jokingly asked as bent down closer to the examination table to get a better look at the tablet.

"Well at this point, sir, rocks are the only thing that seem to give as any clue of some past civilization on Kandon," Amy said eyes fixed on her computer. The young husky hit a few keys and the red scan lights shut off. Major Dawson moved in closer to the stone, intrigued by the strange lettering and other symbols on the surface.

"How old is it," Dawson asked still examining the tablet with his bright yellow eyes.

Amy brought up the scanning information on her screen. "According to the scans it's estimated to be at least," Amy stopped and stared at the numbers she was getting. She was amazed. _'There's no way this thing is that old,' _Amy thought. She was snapped out of her trance by the Major's voice as he asked her again what the age was.

"The info says this thing is at least over thirty million years old. The earliest Lylatian records date back six hundred-fifty thousand years. This thing is ancient," Conner and Nick's jaws dropped, stunned by the relic's age. Dawson was also amazed, but he was a bit skeptical. He sensed that there was more to the stone's importance that Miss Carson wasn't telling him, so he began to question Carson.

"Miss Carson, what is the significance of this tablet, besides the fact that it could help us learn more about Kandon's history?" Dawson asked looking Amy straight in eye.

Amy gulped. She was hoping to avoid questions like that, because she knew in the end what the Major would say, but she ignored her thoughts and went back to Dawson's question. "Well sir, I hope to prove a theory that most of the general scientific public tend to pass off because-"

"To the point please Miss Carson," Dawson said, he hated long stories and he had other things to do.

"Umm right, sorry sir," Amy stammered, "I believe that there was once a race that inhabited and ruled Lylat before we did and that they inhabited planets such as Kandon, Titania, and others where these ruins have been found. I was actually just sent a scan of the tablet's surface to see if we could find a match in the archives."

Dawson smiled, "Well Miss Carson that's quite a theory, but what does a match off some thirty billion year old stone with chicken scratch all over it prove?"

Amy was starting to get annoyed with the Major. _'Is he really this incompetent or is he playing with me'_. She had been shot down before for her beliefs, but it still got her blood boiling no matter how many times she was rejected. Never the less she would answer his question. "Well it would prove that not only was there once a civilization before the first major Lylatian races came to power, but it also proves that what ever civilization existed back then had some means to travel between planets. How else would writing such as that end up in several different places?"

Dawson cocked a brow, "Well if that is true then by what means of travel was there to use? Did they have the kind of technology we have and, if so, where did it all go and how come there are no traces of such technology left? And I have yet to hear any proof that the writing is the same?"

That's where she lost most of everyone that she tried to explain her theory to. Nick and Conner could tell that she was a little hurt by Dawson's skepticism. Amy sighed in disappointment, "I'm afraid I don't have an answer for those questions Major, but please! I know it may sound far fetched but the facts are so strong! I really feel like there's something here and-"

"Whoa! Settle down Miss Carson, I never said that I didn't believe you," Dawson said. He could tell that this was something that's was very important to her, and the last thing he wanted was to upset her.

Amy stopped. She was a little thrown off by this. She thought for sure he was just another one of those jerks who thought she was some crazy girl with crack-pot theories.

Conner stepped forward, "Sir are you saying that you believe Amy?"

Dawson smiled happily, "I will admit… I was a bit doubtful when I first heard of you Miss Carson. I had heard of all the critics and scientists saying that you were nothing more than a girl who chased after fairy tales. But frankly Miss Carson, I'm happy that I was wrong. After I did my own research on you and your studies, I decided that you definitely knew what you were talking about."

Amy's spirit began to liven up. "If I thought you were some 'crazy girl chasing fairy tales'…," Dawson said, "…then I wouldn't have picked you personally for this job."

Immediately Amy sprung out of her chair and hugged the Major saying, "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!"

Major Dawson's grin grew bigger as Amy began pecking kisses on his cheek. Conner's jaw dropped open at the sight of this and inside he began to get a little jealous. Now Nick was the one trying his hardest not to laugh at Conner.

Amy let go of Dawson and snapped a crisp salute to him and said: "Thank you for the morale boost Major!"

Dawson's smile never left his face as he returned the salute, "Likewise Miss Carson. Now I must be on my way. Keep up the good work. I expect great things from you."

At this, Amy was as happy as a school girl. Her eyes widened and glittered with excitement. She replied with a loud "Yes Sir!"

Dawson nodded at her, said his good-byes to Nick and Conner, turned and left.

"Yay, someone finally thinks I'm not crazy!" Amy exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?!" Conner snapped, "I was like the first person to actually believe you and you never showed me that much affection for it!"

"It doesn't mean that much coming from you baby," Amy said with a bit of an evil grin on her face.

Conner couldn't believe what hey was hearing. Had she completely lost it? He was about to say something, but he was way too mad to even speak, so he just turned around and sat down at his work station and stared into the black screen of his computer. Amy smiled and walked up behind the dark furred wolf and put her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry Conner; I was only playing with you. And you always know that I'm so thankful for you believing in me, right?

Conner glanced at her face. He was determined to stay mad at her, but that innocent and playful look in her eyes always got him. How could anyone stay mad at someone so beautiful and sweet? He sighed, "Yeah alright. But for the record, I was the first one to believe you."

Amy laughed, "Yes you were," she said as she moved in closer to the wolf's face and kissing him. Conner melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Amy.

Nick smiled and turned back to his computer and brought a picture of his wife and daughter onto the monitor. He instinctively grabbed the little stone dangling around his neck. _'I Miss and love both of you'_. More than anything, he wanted to be with that at moment.

Admiral Aaron Mitchell stood on the observation deck of the _Solace_, starring out at the vast ocean of stars before him. Every time he looked up into the sky, every time he went into space, he was always amazed at the vast beautiful spectacles that reminded him of how small he was. Mitchell's Executive Officer, Captain Lucus Jacobs, walked up and stood by his side.

"Sir, you have a transmission coming in from Corneria. It's General Hare, he wants to speak with you." The medium sized Shepherd remained silent as he literally stared off into space. "Sir?"

"It's beautiful isn't it, Captain?" Mitchell said to the XO. Jacobs turned his gaze towards the window. It truly was magnificent. Billions and billions of stars staring at them, and them staring right back. "Yes sir… It is very beautiful," Jacobs said back to the Admiral.

"Reminds you how small we are in the eyes of God. Not even the heavens themselves can compare to His glory and His power." The Admiral was starting to sound like a chaplain. Jacobs knew that Mitchell had faith, but he didn't know that he expressed it like this.

"Umm, Sir," Captain Jacobs said laying a hand on Mitchells' shoulder. The Admiral looked back at Jacobs. "General Hare is waiting sir."

Admiral Mitchell smiled and moved towards the door, "I'm sorry Captain. I guess I get carried away sometimes." The fifty-five year old admiral said pressing the button to call the elevator up to the observation deck.

Jacobs stood where he was for a second thinking about the Admiral. He had been acting very strange lately, as if something was bothering him or something was on his mind. Mitchell had just come off the last transport drop three days ago and he was acting more eccentric than he had in the past.

"Are you coming, Captain, or would you like to take the stairs?" the Admiral asked jokingly. The _Solace's_ observation deck was 8 decks above the command deck, and God knew how many flights of stairs there were between the observation deck and the command deck.

Captain Jacobs laughed and turned to join Mitchell's side at the elevator. The doors parted and the two naval officers stepped inside the elevator. Jacobs moved to the control panel on the elevator and tapped in their destination. The elevator gave off an almost silent humming as it descended into the _Solace's_ lower levels. The inside of the elevator was illuminated by four bright, metallic lights that gave of a bluish tint.

Jacobs reached into his uniform's breast pocket and withdrew his father's CSNF zippo and began fiddling with it, opening it, lighting it, and then snapping the top back into place. He wasn't sure why he did this but whatever the reason, he did it profusely. The Admiral noticed the lighter in his XO's hand.

"I hope you have the cigarettes to go with that, Captain. Other than that there's not much point in having it, is there?" Mitchell said to the black terrier beside him.

Jacobs looked at the Admiral and then back at his lighter. "No Sir, I don't have the cigarettes. I don't smoke. I guess it's just more of a good luck charm to me," Jacobs said placing the lighter back in this pocket.

Before Jacobs placed the lighter back inside the fabric of his pocket, Mitchell noticed the designs on the front of the lighter. It was decorated with the older Cornerian Space Naval Forces emblem and the name "Lt. Martin Jacobs" engraved in black lettering below the CSNF symbol. The name rung a bell in the Admiral's mind. Hadn't he served with a terrier by that name once before?

"Captain, may I ask you a personal question," Mitchell said to his XO.

A small grin crept across Jacobs face. "Off course Sir, but do you really need to ask? I mean, you are my boss after all."

"Just because I'm a higher rank than you doesn't mean I can just blatantly ask you about anything son," said Mitchell to the young captain. "For the sake of courtesy, yes, I do have to ask you."

"Well, ok. Fire away, sir."

"Your father, he was in the Navy too wasn't he?"

"Yes sir, he was. Why?"

"Was he a pilot stationed on the carrier _Archer_?"

Jacobs was a little surprised at this. "Yes sir, but how did you know that?"

The Admiral chuckled. "Because I was the Lieutenant Colonel in charge of the squadron your old man flew in back during the Lylat War."

Jacobs' jaw drop, "Are you serious sir? Wow! I didn't know that."

"Your father never told you about me, did he?"

Jacobs paused for a moment and thought. He always remembered the friends his dad had made back when hey was a pilot, but he never remembered anything about a Lt. Col.

"Sorry sir, but either I don't recall him telling me about you, or he never did." Jacobs expected the Admiral to be somewhat disappointed at this. But he got a totally different reaction. Mitchell laughed.

"Umm, what's so funny, sir?"

Mitchell laughed a bit more and said, "Nothing it's just that... it's funny that I expected you not to remember me."

"Sir I don't understand what's so funny about that," Jacobs looked at the Admiral as he chuckled little more and then took in a deep breath to regain himself.

"You see Captain, back when I was Lt. Col. of your pop and the rest of the squadron, I was very hard on him. Your dad was somewhat of a buck wild pilot. He was extremely reckless at times and incredibly stubborn. But he was the best pilot on that entire ship… and he was a damn good man."

Jacobs was flattered to here these things about his father. "Thank you sir, I'm sure he would be happy to here that from you."

"I doubt that Captain, your father was pretty happy when I was promoted and transferred to the _Voice of Lament_."

"Sir, no disrespect to you, but I believe I know my own father. He wasn't one to hold a grudge against another man. He always used to tell me if you had a problem with someone or vice versa, you go and settle the problem like men, respectable or otherwise."

The Admiral admired the maturity in the young captain. His father had clearly raised him well, as all parents should so that their children may live a life of comfort in civilized society.

"Besides Admiral…," Jacobs continued turning his head to his superior," …whatever you did back then or however hard you were on him may not have been appreciated then, but it's the hard things in life that show who we truly are when faced with such situations."

Mitchell chuckled. The man was absolutely right! His attitude towards life and his maturity reflected the image of a leader, one that Admiral Mitchell was proud to be in the presence of. Someone was going to have to take his place one day. He was getting to old for this job. Jacobs would make a fine replacement. _'Yes indeed,'_ the Admiral thought, _'He will make quite the successor.' _

The doors parted once again, allowing Mitchell and Jacobs to step out of elevator onto deck A-1. Before they stepped out of the elevator, a pair of Marines dressed in standard dark green PT shirts and black shorts stood in front of them having a conversation. They must have been so engaged in their conversation that they forgot they were waiting for the elevator to arrive. One of them glanced at them briefly and returned his eyes to his friend. Then he looked back and made a face like he had had a bucket of ice water poured on him without him knowing. The Marine nearly jumped out of his fur. He and his buddy immediately snapped to attention in respect to Mitchell and the resident XO.

"At ease Marines," Admiral Mitchell said as passed by them. The two soldiers relaxed and exchanged some nervous laughs and returned to their conversation as they stepped onto the elevator. Jacobs and Mitchell walked through the halls of the _Solace_ in silence. Occasionally they passed by a few crew members or Marines who would, as required, salute the Admiral and he would acknowledge them and continue on down the hall. Jacobs wondered if the Admiral ever got tired of acknowledging the salutes of all naval crew members they passed. Jacobs thought about it and concluded that the Admiral was a respectable man who was respectful to all those who served under him and this was how he showed it.

They came to the Command Deck doors where two rough and ready Marines stood on guard. The two Marines saluted Mitchell and Jacobs, letting their blaster rifles fall to their sides and hang by the sling. Admiral Mitchell saluted back and began to chat with the Marines, asking them how they were and when their shift was over. The Marines, for security reasons, asked the two naval officers for ID and the security code of the day. To maintain a solid security presence on board the _Solace_ security codes to all the major areas of the station were changed four times a day, and you had to get the codes when they updated or you were pretty much shut out from most of the _Solace_. And if you had a job to do somewhere and you didn't have the proper security clearance, you were just SOL.

The doors opened and the Admiral said his goodbyes to the Marines and walked onto the command deck. The room was somewhat domed shape, except the ceiling had a semi-flat surface. The deck was about fifteen meters wide by ten meters in length. The whole Command Deck was very bright because the ceiling was made of a thick transparent glass that kept the vacuum of space separated from the artificial atmosphere on the _Solace_. The other reason why it was so bright was they weren't to far from Solar. The glass had dozens of tiny lines running through them. These were actually millions of microscopic photovoltaic cells that absorbed any light that came through and converted it to energy to help power the _Solace._

"Admiral on deck," Captain Jacobs yelled to the crew members in on the command deck. As if it was instinct, every crew member present shot up and stood perfectly still. Admiral Mitchell gave the "at ease" command and everyone sat down and continued to their work. Mitchell walked to the center of the command deck and sat in the "commander's chair". As soon as he had sat down, several holographic status screens appeared in front of him. Each screen showed different types of information, which the Admiral ignored so that he could have his conversation with General Hare.

"XO, review this information for me and tell me our status when my call with the good General is over."

"Aye-aye Admiral," Jacobs told one of the crew members to transfer the info to his station so he could read it.

"Ensign Saiders, do we have a clear signal for communication with Corneria," Mitchell asked the comm. officer.

"Aye sir, comm. signals are green. Establishing communication link with Corneria. Stand-by."

Another holo-screen materialized in front of the Admiral. It was filled with static for a few moments and then the image of a gray furred rabbit dressed in a red and gold uniform.

"Admiral Mitchell! Good to see you again," said General Hare adjusting the small pair of glass perched on top of his nose.

"Likewise General. How have things been for you?"

General Hare sighed at this question, "Very busy. I've been all over Lylat attending meetings with representatives from Fichina, Katina, and Aquas discussing several key issues, one of which may concern the entire Kandon colonization project."

Mitchell cocked a brow. That couldn't be good at all. They hadn't had any kind of major problems in Lylat since the Anglar War ended. Now there had been a rebellion that occurred on Titania three months ago but it was quickly put down. Other than that, things had been relatively quiet. But Mitchell always wondered when the tension between Lylat's planets would boil over and once again lead to war.

"What kind of issue, General," Admiral Mitchell asked.

"Well, it's unconfirmed at this time, but one of our listening posts intercepted unknown communication signals that came out of sector T/Y 642," General Hare tapped a few keys on his keyboard computer and brought up a map of the Lylat System. A box appeared around Titania, Sector Y, Aquas, and Kandon, which zoomed in on the area and showed a red circle between Titania and Sector Y.

Kandon was located right outside that area. As a first response base, the Cornerian and allied governments wanted the base to be between Corneria and Venom, Venom because they were the most likely to throw the first punch. The heavily oceanic planet of Aquas was the closest "friendly" planet and one of the main suppliers for Kandon.

Mitchell rubbed his forehead, "Do we have any idea of what or who could have been responsible for the signals?"

"We have an idea. The transmission was heavily encrypted and it took our best comm. personnel to crack a fraction of the message. We're still trying decode the rest."

"What does the message say," Mitchell asked.

"Not much. Have a listen for yourself," the old rabbit said hitting another key. Static filled the comm. speakers followed by a deep voice speaking with a much lighter but very scratchy voice, and it wasn't scratchy from the static. They were each speaking two separate languages.

Deep voice: "-xulo ud atou ureik eih melomdkj-" static "-xuko ke-" static "-ucc veh dekxadw."

Scratchy voice: "I Ma yrev erus taht yeht od ton-" static "- eht kcatta liw eb terc-" static

Deep voice: "Cokj xefo-" static "-A tojaho dekxadw meh-" static "-McCloud's-" static "-ed u fcukkoh! Kxaj-" static "-rokkoh nehb eh ocjo-"static

Scratchy voice: "Od ton terf, Lareneg. Yreve gniht si gniog ot og ot nalp."

END TRANSMISSION DUE TO HEAVY ENCRYPTION

The two of them were silent for a moment and Mitchell didn't like it one bit.

General Hare broke the silence first, "Do you recognize either of those languages?"

Mitchell nodded, "The one with the scratchy voice was speaking Venomian. I don't speak the language but I know what it sounds like."

"The other language you heard was Saurian."

This really confused Mitchell. Sauria was a planet that wasn't given much attention because the populations of Lylat knew little about it. Some argued that it wasn't even a planet of Lylat because it was a Vulcan planet, which meant it shared the same orbit with another planet but it was constantly on the other side of the star the system orbited.

"Why in the name of Lylat would a Venomian be having a conversation with a Saurian? They're two totally different races. And who would and how? I thought Saurians were more tribal than technological. And are my old ears getting worse, because I swear I heard the name 'McCloud'," Admiral Mitchell asked a multitude of questions to General Hare, who had his arms crossed over his chest with a knowledgeable look on his face.

"Your guess is as good as mine. As for who, we have our suspicions and as for how; there is one race on Sauria that possess some technology, and yes you did hear that name. That's what really got me worried. Fox and his team are on a special assignment on Kew. I'll have to contact him after were done," said the General.

"I see. So who did you have in mind when you said you had your suspicions?"

"You let us worry about that. Right now I want you to be ready for a possible…" the speakers began to hiss with static again.

"General," Mitchell's heart began to beat.

"Admiral…'chell…'an you hea'… I'm losing your transmission sig…"

The communication line went dead. Mitchell sprung into action. "Saiders, report!"

"Sir the comm. line is commpletly dead."

"I can see that Ensign. Why is the line dead?" Mitchell wondered how he functioned with Saiders sometimes. _'How in the world did he even make it through the academy?'_

"No idea sir. The communication array is running at 100 percent and… wait a minute," Saiders began rapidly typing on keyboard. "Sir the problem is some outside element."

"Solar flare," Mitchell proposed. It wasn't unnatural. As close as they were to Solar, a super hot surfaced planet in the middle of Lylat, it wouldn't be surprising at all if they were affected by the planets massive fluctuations. Mitchell began to relax at this thought.

"No sir. Sensors aren't picking up any kind of solar energy." As the Ensign continued to type, his face suddenly froze. He felt sick to his stomach at what he saw on his screen.

"Sir," Saiders said weakly.

Mitchell sensed the fear in his voice and was about ask what was wrong when Ensign Sheens abruptly shouted, "Admiral long range sensors are picking up multiple unknown ships 4000 klicks starboard side!"

So this was going to happen after all. Mitchell cussed under his breath._ 'How did they get so close?! Those sensors have a range of over 30,000 klicks!'_ screamed the Admiral's thoughts in his head."Lieutenant Jile! Get the weapons system up and running immediately! I want missile pods ready to fire when I give the orders!"

"Aye-aye Sir!"

"Ensign Saiders contact the ground base. Tell them to be ready for an invasion. Tell whoever is running that rock down there that I want the surface to space cannons operational in five minutes!"

"Aye-aye Sir!"

"Lockheed divert all auxiliary power to the main shields! I don't want a single ship to breach our hull!"

"Yes Sir!"

"Sheens get our pilots out there! The evacuation ships are going to need cover to escape!"

"Evacuation Sir," Captain Jacobs asked.

"That's right Jacobs, evac! There are civilian scientists on board this station and we are getting them off first and you're going to over see it!"

Jacobs barked an "Aye-aye" as well. Mitchell gritted his teeth as he pulled a lighter and a cigar out of his inside breast pocket. He lit up the end of the cigar and exhaled a large puff of smoke. _'Come and get us you arrogant scumbags!'_


	2. Sin Hunter

Author's Note: Finally! Chapter one is here! It took me long enough, but me being so freaking lazy… anyway here it is! I had a little more help from my good friend Mr. Dynamite, my new creative writing advisor. He helped out a whole lot with this chapter and I'm very happy and thankful for that. Also I know there is a time difference between this chapter and the prologue, but bear with me. The events of Kandon and the _Solace_ will be explained in due time. Enjoy and please review.

Chapter One

Sin Hunter

3 days earlier…

1712 hours (5:12 pm, Cornerian standard time)

February 5, 26 ALW (After Lylat War)

Planet Kew

The small, one manned star fighter known as the _"Cloud Runner_"broke through the atmosphere of the planet Kew, banking sharply as it flew towards the planet surface. Thick, light brown clouds parted as the ship sped threw Kew's skies. _'I hate this planet'_, thought the pilot of the dingy white and blue fighter. Krystal had been here too many times before. The planet was a place of decay and sickness. The worst criminals, mercenaries, bounty hunters, and crime lords hid their sorry hides on this God forsaken rock. And the worst part of it: was she was after one.

Krystal's employer had given her an assignment in partnership with the Cornerian government to take down a very dangerous, very hard to find crime lord known only to the public as the "Sin Dragon". He was charged with multiple accounts of smuggling, arms dealing, drug distribution, and Lylatian female kidnapping and trafficking. It was obvious to her what the girls were being used for. No one even knew what he looked like. _'I can't wait to put a round into this sick punk's head', _Krystal's thoughts and ambitions to kill the Dragon betrayed her. She knew her place in all of this, and it didn't belong in killing him. That was the military's job. No she was responsible for finding the place where they stored the "merchandise". The word was distasteful to her.

Ironically, Krystal was only now able to find the Sin Dragon because he sent a message to her. At first, Krystal thought he had found out she was hunting him and was on to her game. That usually meant that the target had relocated and sent a message to tell you that you were a complete screw up at your job, and she wasn't. But that wasn't the case. It was as if he had no idea that she had been looking for him. Well, that told Krystal three things; one, she was having better luck than what she was used to, two, that the Sin Dragon knew she was hunting him and was setting a trap for her, or he was completely serious and he really wanted to meet her for a good reason. She didn't know which was true and which was false, but Krystal wasn't about to assume one thing and be caught off guard by another. She didn't assume anything at all at anytime. Assumptions would get you killed, especially in this line of work.

The fighter finally broke through the thick layers of clouds to reveal Kew's ugly surface. Scraps of twisted metal and rusted steel littered the ground. Large iron towers stood like skyscrapers that had not yet collapsed from age, but were on the verge of it. "The Junkyard" was Kew's nickname, and it was a fitting one at that. The _Cloud Runner_ descended closer to the ground until it was almost hugging it. Being a talented pilot, Krystal quickly and skillfully weaved in and out of the metal that jutted out from the surface of the planet. She cracked a smirk in the corner of her mouth, "You taught me well Fox," she said to herself, thinking about the golden furred vulpine she hadn't seen in six months.

Kew wasn't a planet you wanted to stay on long. In some places, if the toxic fumes and airborne pollutants didn't kill you then the criminals and the escaped convicts would. It was an awful, vile planet that held only the darkest and filthiest of souls. All the more reason she wanted to get off this planet as soon as she could. The largest settlement on Kew was Detrymin City. The city was possibly more wicked and sinful than the entire planet. That was where she would find the Sin Dragon. She spotted Detrymin on the horizon, but just barely. It was a small city compared to the ones on Corneria, Fichina, or Katina. The reason she even managed to spot the city was because of the four skyscrapers that that bit into the clouds. She eased the dual control sticks forward, causing her ship to speed up towards the city.

As useless as Kew seemed, it was actually a very important part of Lylat. The four skyscrapers in Detrymin were owned by four of Lylat's top mining companies; the biggest being the Cornerian Central Mining company. The company was solely responsible for bringing in most of the minerals, metals, and other resources that kept the Cornerian economy alive. A lot of the scrap metal came from the remains of destroyed ships from the Lylat War. Most of the scrap metal that littered the planet was used in refurbishing older ships or making new ships. The companies offered ship parking in the dockyards, and, by far, most secure were Cornerian Central Mining's landing pads. That's where she would land and leave her precious fighter.

After she gained clearance with the dockyards tower, Krystal piloted her fighter to the appointed pad. The lading pad was 110 meters in length with a width of 79 meters. Its surface was covered with other small, one-man fighters such as Krystal's. She eased the sticks even with each other and slightly pointed them downward. Her fighter began to descend slowly. Krystal flipped a switch that turned on the anti-gravity landing gear and began to power down the _Cloud Runner_'s G-Diffuser system. The _Cloud Runner_ stopped a foot off the lading space and began hovering over the pad. Krystal popped the canopy open and was greeted by the smell of stale air. A wave of heat washed over Krystal's body from the high risen sun. Back on Corneria, sun would be halfway down the horizon. But here in Detrymin it was the beginning of the afternoon.

She hopped out of the cockpit and stretched out her arms and legs. She could hear the gentle popping of her joint's and bones as her arms reached for Kew's sky. Krystal let her arms fall to her side as she turned back to the_ Cloud Runner_ to grab her gear.

It wasn't extremely hot outside but there was defiantly heat. Krystal wore a hooded black camisole jacket with no sleeves and a pair of faded and torn jeans. Around her waist was a metal belt with a sheathed knife strapped on the side. The knife's blade was six inches long with jagged edges near the bolster of the blade. On the opposite leg strapped to her outer thigh was Krystal's blaster, resting snuggly in its holster. She rarely used it unless it absolutely necessary, in which many cases was often.

But she preferred to use her Cerinian warrior staff, with which she was way more experienced with. Along with her staff and blaster, Krystal was also a master at hand-to-hand combat. The first eight years of her life were spent mastering Cerinian martial arts and by the time she was old enough to be sworn in as a warrior she had become a very accomplished fighter. When she first joined Star Fox, she was not only taught the various pieces of technology, but also different forms of Lylatian martial art styles, all of which she had learned from Fox. She had become so used to both that she had began combining combat styles and techniques to make a very versatile and deadly fighting method that was all her own.

She set the security on the _Cloud Runner_ for "away". Slippy Toad, an ex-member of Star Fox, had designed a security system that could only be disabled and enabled by the wrist computers that each member carried with them. The computers interface was designed to tap into the internal computer system of the fighter that its pilot was assigned to. Slippy had designed it so that only the person who owned the ship or another member of Star Fox could operate it.

He had also programmed a more sophisticated auto pilot system into any fighter that was used by Star Fox. With the use of the wrist computers, a pilot could activate the auto pilot from another location and the fighter would fly to wherever the pilot was by locking onto the distinctive signal that the wrist computer gave off. The pilot could also send specific coordinates to the auto pilot and it would follow those coordinates.

The last security device on the _Cloud Runner_ was a defensive system created to keep any unwanted guests out of the fighter. This was mechanism called DESS, which stood for Defensive Electro Shock Shield, a crowning product of Slippy Toad's ingenuity. It worked by storing up excess energy in the shield generator, then whenever someone came within touching distance of the _Cloud Runner_, the active shields around the fighter would send volts of stored electricity into the intruder.

For example, if anyone were to try and manually open the canopy of the fighter, the DESS would activate and immediately electrocute the intruder enough power to knock a person unconscious. Krystal was amazed at the level of creativity that went into the inventions Slippy created.

Krystal eased through a large group of people walking down the Detrymin streets. She had been walking for a good thirty minutes through the city looking for a building called "The Royal Dragon". This was where the Sin Dragon told her where she could meet him. She looked around as she rounded a corner searching for this building. Sin Dragon had not told her where it was, what it looked like, or how to find this place. All he told her was the name. By the sound of the name, Krystal guessed that Sin Dragon had named the place after himself. That told her something about him. He was arrogant.

Anyone who named something after him/herself and gave it an alluring name like "Royal" were as conceited as they wanted to be. And anytime Krystal ran into someone who had a fat ego in her line of work, they either ended up getting themselves into more trouble or crossing her the wrong way. No matter how it went, Krystal would end up sending her boot into someone's face.

She crossed a four way intersection and continued through the city. Krystal kept her camisole's hood over her head and a pair of black round lens sunglasses in front of her eyes. As she came past an open alleyway, she caught something flashing in her peripheral. She stopped and turned her head and saw on the other side of the buildings next to her was a sign in bright flashing neon letters "The Royal Dragon Casino and Gentlemen's Club". _Of course_, she thought disgustedly. She had spent a good amount of time in the last six months getting information and leads about the Sin Dragon from assorted bars, strip clubs, casinos, and other distasteful places. She found it terribly cliché that this is where the Sin Dragon actually was. Although, she had to ask herself, was she really surprised?

The outside of the building had an appearance of a prestigious hotel. It was at least thirty-two stories tall. On the sidewalks around the Royal Dragon stood several six and a half foot trees. They greatly resembled bonsai trees, only seven times bigger. The trees had small white light decorating their branches. There were several people around the trees that were dressed like gardeners, each one tending to the tree closest to him. Krystal imagined it would be hard to grow anything on a planet like this, but they obviously found a way.

She walked to the entrance where two large guards in business suits and black shades stood keeping watch. One was a bulky wolverine with dark brown fur and sharp, white fangs poking out of his mouth. The other was black and brown boxer, who was leaner and taller than his partner, but looked like he was just as strong and mean. She approached the doors but was immediately stopped by the boxer.

"Sorry girl, but unless you're here to apply for a job in the club, you're not walkin' through those doors. Come back when the party starts." The boxer examined her slender and curvy figure and smirked, "Or maybe we can step around the corner and I let you convince me." Krystal wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what he meant

Her temper and lack of patience got the better of her. She turned herself sideways by putting her left foot next to the boxer's right, while brining her right hand across her stomach to grab the combat knife that hung on her belt. Pulling it out with as much force as she could manage, which was a considerable amount, brought the hilt of the drawn knife into the boxer's crotch, hard.

Dumb struck by the speed that she moved at, the wolverine could do nothing but stare as his partner's eyes opened wide with pain. Seeing the boxer leaning forward Krystal grabbed his head and brought it down, towards her up rising knee.

Bringing the boxers head down with her hand she placed her knee directly in between his eyes shattering the shades he was wearing. Then as he started to real backwards she grabbed his shoulder and swung herself around so that she was behind him.

Grabbing his head with her left hand she pulled back on his hair, bearing his throat to the knife's blade. And right as she was about to slice his throat wide open she noticed the wolverine had finally decided to move. He was dropping to one knee while reaching for what she assumed was a weapon.

Letting go of the boxer's hair she reached down to her side and grabbed the blaster brining it up in a flash. The little lazer site at the end flipped on and started moving. The wolverine saw it and his eyes followed it up his chest until it rested between his eyes.

"I wouldn't if I were you," she said glancing at the wolverine, "not unless you want me to make a fountain out of your friend's neck."

All form of compassion and sympathy had left Krystal at this point. She wasn't herself anymore. Now she was someone who cared nothing for the lives of others. She was a dark entity that walked alone in life. She was her second identity. She was Kursed.

"Now both of you listen to me, and listen well because I HATE," Kursed dug the blade of her knife into the boxer's neck to add emphasis, "repeating myself. Now, do you both understand?"

"O-ok," the boxer said with a fearful shaking in his voice. A pleasured smile appeared upon Kursed's face. She absolutely loved to hear that sound of fear in someone's voice.

"Yeah, fine, whatever you say lady," the wolverine said calmly.

"Good now open the door, and go inside and tell your boss that Kursed is here. And trust me, he'll know. Now get moving."

The wolverine darted to the door and ran inside. Kursed turned her attention back to the boxer in the suit. "Now you open the door and go in, slowly." The boxer nodded and put his hand on the door and opened it. The boxer walked into the main lobby, Kursed behind him with the blade ready to cut his jugular at any given moment. The casino was decorated very brightly with golden dragon decorations on the walls and ceiling. The floor was decorated with a large red carpet that ran from the entrance and up a very elegantly lit staircase. To the left and right of the main lobby were rows of slot machines, card tables, craps tables, and roulette wheels set up to accommodate up to 550 frequent gamblers.

She made the boxer stop. She moved closer and whispered closely into his ear, "I hope for your sake that your boss gets here soon. A girl like me could get bored and become 'creative'," Kursed made a small incision with her knife. The boxer gritted his teeth as blood began to trickle out of the cut. Though she wasn't reading his mind, she was sure that he was cursing himself for crossing this beautiful but deadly woman.

From the stair case came another goon in a business suit, this one bigger than the other two. A dirty blonde furred lion with a cleanly cut mane. He had a look on his face that said that he was fearless and unmoved by what he saw.

"Kursed, I am Mr. Ducane's personal body guard. If you'll please let the man go I will gladly take you to Mr. Ducane so you both may discuss your business."

It sounded reliable to Kursed. "Get out of here." Kursed said releasing her hostage and jabbing him in the back with her boot. He stumbled onto the floor but quickly ran away. Kursed didn't even think he knew where he was going. He just wanted to get away from her. She smiled evilly. Another life scarred and ruined.

Sheathing her knife and holstering the blaster, Kursed followed the lion up the stairs. _So your true self is revealed Dragon_. The bodyguard led Kursed into a hallway decorated with steel armor suits holding swords. They were unlike anything she had ever seen before. The armor was decorated with a red cross on the shoulder plates, and on top of the helmet was a symbol of what she could only guess was skull. The only reason she made that connection was because the symbol look a great deal like the skull of a chimp or a gorilla.

The same red cross that was marked on the shoulder plate of the suit also decorated the forehead of the skull. It also appeared to have two swords with blood stained on them going through the sides of the skull. The armor was truly something to be admired. It puzzled her for a moment, but she shook it off when the lion called her name. She had stopped where she was staring at the armor in awe and forgot why she was even here.

But it didn't take long to remember. The lion directed her to a large ebony double door with old fashioned steel locks and handles. The Dragon must have had something for outdated décor. The lion grabbed hold of the door handles and twisted them, swinging the two large doors open and revealing a large open room with a conference table seated in the center, several flat screen TVs monitors on the walls along with computer display screens, and six seats on either side of the table, with one positioned at the end and head of the table. The room was only partially lit by the TV and computers. Kursed wasn't quite sure why the large guard had led her here. At that moment she suspected treachery, but a voice suddenly came from the opposite end of the conference table.

"Welcome, my dear. I do hope that my men didn't rough you up too much." Kursed looked to the voice's origin and sitting in a big chair at the other end was a figure. The light from the TVs and monitors slightly revealed his face, but only the sides of his head and his eyes.

Kursed couldn't help but smirk at his statement. "Your 'pups' should be taught some manners. 'Men' is hardly the word I would even use," she took a step into the conference room.

His eyes narrowed in the dim light and he let out a dark chuckle. "And what words would you use Miss Kursed?"

Kursed crossed her arms. "I would use condescending scum, or at least something along those lines."

The figure threw back his head and laughed loudly. "I had a feeling I'd like you! Please come in, come in. Have a seat, please."

Kursed took the offer and sat down at the seat opposite to the figure. The lights in the room came on slowly and the figure was revealed before Kursed. Sitting in the chair nine feet in front of Kursed was a red scaled Venomian in black business suit, like the rest. Black patterns ran against the red scales.

Kursed had never seen a Venomian look like this. Most Venomians had a variety of green colors, but she had never seen a red Venomian with these strange black stripes. On his head there was a stripe that ran up the back of his head and down his snout, chin, and his throat.

His eyes glowed a bright green against his red and black scales, pupils slivered as a reptile's should be. Decorating the scales around his eyes were branches of the stripe running down his skull. He had what looked like a spiky, feathery hair growing from the top of his head and arching towards the back of his head. His upper lip couldn't hide the silvery white tips of his short but sharp teeth.

_A dragon indeed, now I just need to make sure I don't get burned_, Kursed thought referring to her cover being blown.

"Allow me to 'formally' introduce myself," the Sin Dragon stood up from his chair. "You know me as Sin Dragon, however if by chance you will be working for me I feel we shouldn't have any unnecessary titles before us. My name is Martin S. Ducane, black market billionaire, drugs, weapons, and women dealer, and king of the Dragon's Market.

Kursed's ears twitched at the sound of the last statement. This was the first she had ever heard of any kind of market. It must have been some black market system to help run his business. Or, perhaps the market was his business.

"Cut to the chase," Kursed snapped irritatingly, "I could be at way better places right now so I'd like to get business out of the way."

Ducane smiled a toothy grin. "Of course my dear, please forgive me. Alright, let me first say that if you do decide to take my offer, you will be richly awarded. First, for meeting me here in person I would like to give you this, a taste of what's to come if you will," Ducane bent over to his left and grabbed something. He then brought a black suit case before him and set on the table top. Laying it flat, Ducane propelled the case forward with enough momentum to reach Kursed's end of the conference table. The case stopped directly in front of her. She starred at it for a moment then glanced at Ducane in distrust.

"Go on, open it," he said sitting back down in his chair.

Kursed glanced the outside of the case over once more and then place her hands on the case's locks. She flipped both locks up and then lifted the top of the case open. Inside, packed tightly together, were eight rows of bundled credits. Kursed greedy side caused her to smirk evilly. She heard Ducane chuckle. "What's funny Ducane," she asked.

"Oh nothing my, dear. I just found the look on your face amusing, that's all. You see with my line of work, that kind of money is little more than pocket change. Oh, and by the way, that one suit case contains 250 thousand Lylatian credits, and all for you."

That really caught Kursed's attention. Normally the missions she took just to keep herself going were between above medium and minimum pay, above medium being between forty thousand and eighty thousand per job, minimum being between eight thousand and ten thousand per job. Depending on the job type and what the starting pay was were critical factors to whether or not Kursed accepted or turned it down.

Normally she charged an extra nine thousand to the starting payment on jobs that involved assassination of an individual. Kursed was smart about who she went after. If they were politicians or some other government official, regardless from where they were, she wouldn't take the job. Even if the pay was high she wouldn't accept. She didn't need Lylat's governments after her when she could just hunt scum and criminals for the same price and do Lylat a favor.

Kursed closed the case and eased it to her right. She locked her eyes on Ducane. "What do you want me to do," she said simply and coldly.

Ducane began, "Miss Kursed, as you know, I am a very busy man who works hard to run the business I do. Although it is hard to establish a firm foothold in the Lylatian black market, the benefits that come from it are wonderful. I have worked for almost thirty years to keep my business healthily running, and for thirty years I have achieved just that. I began as a mere smuggler with just a few minor contractors who paid me to transport there goods all over Lylat."

He paused, breathing lightly and taking in the momentary silence. "Then the Lylat War started. The once great emperor Andross realized the usefulness in black hearted mercenaries, bounty hunters, and smugglers. He himself charged me the task of bringing him Cornerian weapons, information, and technology. And I did. Before he died at hands of Fox McCloud, he gave me an incredible amount of wealth." Hearing the mention of McCloud's name made Kursed's ears to twitch a bit. It sound of that name made Kursed's blood to boil.

"After the war, I set out to do what no other had done before… To create the most abundant and expansive black market system in all of Lylat. Thirty years have gone by since I started, a mere peasant. And thirty years today, I am a king."

He stood up and walked towards the wall behind him where a control panel jutted out. He pressed a single key on the console and the wall split open, turning into a window with a large view of Detrymin city. He stood there and stared out the window as he talked.

"For thirty years I have kept my empire, my precious Dragon's Market, alive and safe from those who wish it be destroyed. It was only three weeks ago that the first compromise of my marketing system, the first one in thirty years, reared its ugly head into my view." He turned and faced Kursed again.

"You see my dear, even a man like me gets tired. So a few years after my business began, I appointed seven others to run the individual markets of my system, one for each populated area of Lylat, the top ones being Fortuna, Fichina, Aquas, Corneria, Katina, and one to oversee Sector X, Y, and Z. Over the years, as more planets began populating, like the New Venom, I began adding more managers for those planets. The hardest planet market to keep so far has been Corneria."

"Five months ago I hired a new manager for the market on Corneria, a cocky and arrogant business man. Although he had an attitude I didn't much care for he was a skilled manager and a reliable one at that. Still, I didn't fully trust him because of his attitude and the fact that he was new. So I had one of my most trustworthy advisors keep a watchful eye over him. For the first five months he was in charge of the Cornerian market, he did outstanding work. But it all went down the drain three weeks ago."

Ducane moved to one of the computers in the room and began typing. A video window popped up on every one of the flat screen TVs mounted on the walls. They began playing a recorded video of a raccoon tied up in a chair with nothing on except a pair of boxers. The raccoon looked extremely exhausted and had what looked like two nails sticking out of his chest, around his ribs. There was a dog dressed in combat uniform standing in the background, a large bucket positioned next to him. There was another figure in the video that could not be seen, other than his black silhouette. The audio revealed that as each breath sounded like he was gasping for air. A dark voice came over the audio and asked "Where is the Sin Dragon." The raccoon glanced up at the figure standing across from him.

Hey responded with, "You fascist son of a bitch," the raccoons language showed his anger to the silhouette. "I already told you I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

The shadowed man raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The soldier behind the raccoon grabbed the bucket and poured ice cold water on the raccoon, who shuddered at the chill of the water. The soldier then grabbed two cables and attached them to the nails in his ribs.

"You should've just told him," the soldier said as hey attached the cables.

The raccoon spat in his face. "Screw you." The dog stood up straight and wiped then spit off his face, looked at it for a second, and then sent his fist into the 'coon's face. The soldier then walked to the back of the room and stood in the background.

"I hope idiots know who you're dealing with, 'cause when I get out of here you guys are so," his words were cut of buy the crackle of electricity. The raccoon let out a blood curding scream from the hundreds of electric volts that sparked through him. The amount electricity being fed into him made him look like he was having a seizure.

His body jolted forward, as if he was attempting to escape from his bonds, but his legs were also bound to the chair, so it didn't matter a bit. His screams were made louder by the fact that he was enclosed in such a small room as well. Kursed saw a purple blue bolt of electricity dance across the outside of his fur near where the cables had been attached.

Then, after five seconds, the electricity stopped but his screaming didn't. He was in a great deal of pain. He slumped forward as far as he could go in the chair and began crying. If enough pain was applied to someone, even the toughest man imaginable would cry like a little girl.

Kursed knew this from interrogating dozens of criminals for information. She herself had used electricity to interrogate before, and most of the time she didn't even have to plug them up to the power source. Most of every criminal that cared about his "manhood" cracked as soon she threatened to destroy it. She hadn't done it yet to any man, and frankly she was glad she hadn't done it yet. At least Krystal was glad that Kursed hadn't.

"Now are you going to cooperate," the silhouette said.

"Please," the raccoon was whimpering now. "I can't tell you anything! He'll kill me!"

There was a pause in the video were the only sound that could be heard was the raccoon's crying and heavy breathing. "What makes you think I won't?" The silhouette's voice was followed by another electrical current. The helpless prisoner screamed as loud as he could as his body thrashed in every direction from the electricity. And then the screen went black.

Kursed stared at the blacked screen. She was speechless. Ducane's voice snapped her out of her trance: "You see…The Cornerian forces are doing any and every thing they can to find me, and they succeeded."

"What… Cornerian… you can't be serious," Kursed knew something was wrong. The Cornerians didn't torture prisoners; it was bad news to the politicians and the public, although many of the people of Corneria would have condoned it during the Lylat War because of how desperate Corneria was. But there was no war being fought and when generals and the military aren't running things, politicians are.

"I know," Ducane said sitting back in his chair, "it was hard for me to believe that Corneria actually had the guts to torture someone. But then again, Corneria doesn't have the stomach to do what they did to him. If not Corneria, I think somebody else is behind this."

Now things were really starting to get interesting. Ducane had a valid point. The Cornerian officials, whether political or otherwise, would never allow torture. So she could see where he was getting that idea. But how could hey be sure. The Cornerians had been after Ducane for almost thirty years, maybe they were tired of always coming up emptied handed.

And who's to say that Ducane was just being paranoid?

Ducane said, "But whoever it was who is responsible for this doesn't matter. What matters is getting out of here before the Cornerians get here."

Kursed leaned back in her chair, "So they did get some information out of your friend."

Ducane didn't answer back immediately. He just stared at her with a militant look in his eye. Kursed must have hit a raw nerve. "Unfortunately, yes they did. Hey told them everything hey knew. Who hey was, what his role was, and everything he knew about me."

"So they know who you really are now," Kursed asked.

A toothy grin spread across Ducane's face. "Actually no, Miss Kursed."

At first Kursed didn't understand, but when she thought a bit more about it, it made perfect sense. "You're keeping your identity away from your employees."

"Very good, my dear," Ducane said pointing his index finger at her. "That's exactly it. I knew that a day would come when one of my partners would be captured and interrogated, and I prepared for that day. I only gave my partners the knowledge that I deemed necessary."

Kursed had to hand it to him. For a wanted crime lord and overall scum bag, Ducane was not an idiot. He knew what he was doing.

"Tomorrow, the last shipment of my merchandise will be loaded up and transported to a safe location. Your job is to escort the convoy to the location. I will fill you in on the details momentarily. Once the transports have arrived at the safe zone, you will be given your second payment and then you can leave. Any questions?"

Kursed shook her head.

"Wonderful, then we have a deal," Ducane said happily.

Ducane lifted his wrist watch and looked at the time. A look of surprise came over him. "Well Kursed I'd hate to cut our meeting short, but I must be going now."

"Aww," Kursed said sarcastically, "And we had just gotten business out of the way."

Ducane laughed, "Well maybe there will be another time for pleasure, my dear."

Kursed got out of her seat and met him face to face. She poked her index finger into his chest and said, "Not on your life, Ducane."

Kursed turned for the door, but she heard Ducane call her name. She turned and saw him toss something at her. She caught the object in her hands. She opened her hand and revealed a ring of with two keys.

"I'm going to be quite busy tonight in the casino and the club so I won't be in my suite. If you don't have anywhere else to go, why not take my presidential suite."

That was an offer that she would take him up on immediately. She hadn't had a decent nights sleep in days, and she could bet credits that the bed in the suite would be like sleeping on air.

"Sure, I'll take it," Kursed said tucking the keys into her left pants pocket.

"One key opens the suite and the other opens anything with a lock inside the suite," said Ducane opening the conference room doors. "I have a full five star restaurant staff that would be happy to provide you anything your stomach may crave. Just call room service, make your request and they'll do the rest. Anything you order is my treat."

'_Oh this is going to be a good night'_ Kursed thought. Food was another thing Kursed had been without over the last few days, at least good food. Her diet had consisted of power bars, granola bars, any kind of rehydratable food she could get her hands on, and the occasional nice dinner that she would treat herself to when she had saved up enough credits.

"If there's anything else you may need please ask my assistant and personal bodyguard Abbas," motioned to the lion that had brought her to Ducane. He had been standing outside the conference room the whole time.

"Now let me think… was there something else… Ah yes!" Ducane turned to Abbas and began speaking to him in Venomian. The lion nodded and reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a PDA. Ducane turned back to Kursed and handed her the PDA.

"What's this for," Kursed questioned.

"That PDA contains the mission briefing, information on the convoy's route, and the destination coordinates. Keep it for now. You can give back after the mission," Ducane turned and began walking down the hallway. "Till next we meet my dear."

Kursed stood there for a moment staring at the PDA in her hand. '_Finally… after six months… I have the info they'll need'_ Kursed thought slipping the PDA into her camisole pocket. As she turned to leave when Abbas stopped her.

"Are going to leave all those credits in the conference room?"

Kursed turned to the hulking lion, "No. If you don't mind I'd like the brief case placed in the suite. I'm going out for a bit. But if I come back and find even one credit missing things will get real ugly real fast. Think you can handle that?"

Abbas walked into the conference room and took the suit case in hand. "Mr. Ducane instructed me to look after you while you are staying at the Royal Dragon. Please find me if there is anything else I can do," Abbas walked past her and down the hall until she was all alone.

She let out a sigh of relief. The blue furred vixen leaned her back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. She was tired. Tired of this job. Tired of the restless nights. Tired of trying to figure out who she really was now. Was she Kursed or Krystal? At times, there didn't seem to be much of a difference. She missed him. The one person who truly knew who she was. A tear trickled down from one of her eyes and down her cheek.

"Soon," Krystal said to herself, "Soon it will be ok. I'm all most at the end of this nightmare."

Ducane stepped into the back of a hover limousine waiting for him at the front of the Royal Dragon. One of his men closed the door behind him, walked up and got in the passenger seat at the front of the limo. Ducane ordered his driver to go. The limo began to slowly accelerate down the traffic filled streets of Detrymin city. Sitting across from Ducane were two other venomians, one with emerald green scales and the other with pure black scales. He looked at both of them and sighed.

"It took you two long enough," Ducane said reaching into a compartment and grabbing three chilled glasses and a bottle of champagne.

"Sorry were late Marty," said the black scaled venomian in a low gruff voice. "We had some trouble with the Cornerians before we arrived."

Ducane was in the middle of pouring champagne into one of the glasses when he heard this. The hand holding the bottle shook causing some of the bubbling champagne to spill on the floor of the limousine.

"What… did you say Voldric?" Ducane said setting the champagne bottle down.

Voldric looked over to his green scaled partner Entri, who had a very nervous look on his face. Voldric turned back to Ducane and said, "We had a problem with a squadron of fighters that were leaving Corneria to link up with a fleet."

Things were silent for moment again. "Marty... The Cornerian Military is on the move," Voldric add.

Ducane wiped the sweat of his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. He could have sworn they had more time. No matter. He would make do with the time he had. Ducane cleared his throat and continued to pour the champagne into the glasses.

"How much longer until the last of the merchandise is shipped of to Meteo?" Ducane asked handing of one of the glasses of champagne to Voldric.

This time Entri answered, "Not much longer. We should be able to have the last shipment ready to leave before sunrise tomorrow, if every thing goes to plan of course."

Ducane thought for moment. He wouldn't be able to stay for the anniversary of his casino and his beloved market. He needed a new plan. He began to observe himself from the Cornerian perspective. They say to know your enemy you must see yourself as your enemy sees you. '_Evil…greedy… a ghost… power hungry… a crime lord…' _Ducane thought sipping on the champagne in his glass. Then came to him.

"A ghost… I'm a ghost," Ducane muttered to himself. A sadistic grin began to spread across Ducane's mug. Ducane sucked down his champagne in a flash.

Voldric and Entri glanced at one another then back at Ducane. "Excuse me sir," Entri asked.

"I'm a ghost!" Ducane was now happily shouting. If it wasn't for the fact that they were inside a limo, Ducane probably would have stood up and shouted the statement to the sky.

"Marty is that really champagne?" Voldric asked moving forward to try and grab the glass out of Ducane's hand. Just as Voldric was in reach of the glass, Ducane grabbed Voldric's glass, brought it up to his mouth and chugged the champagne down.

"It's not the champagne, Voldric. It's inspiration!"

"Huh," Entri chirped.

"The Cornerians have no idea who I really am! They don't know my age, name, or species. They have no solid information on me what so ever! Therefore, I am a ghost!"

Now Voldric understood. Ducane was right. As far as the Cornerian government was concerned, any reliable visual or personal information about the so called Sin Dragon was as visable as air. In other words, the Cornerians had no real idea who they were after! That gave Ducane the advantage and a plan.

"So, judging by the abrupt mood swing you just had I'm going to assume you have a plan," Voldric said leaning back in his leather covered seat.

Ducane nodded, "Oh yes I have a plan, but I'll fill you two in on it later. There's something else far more important I require of you two at the moment." Ducane pressed a button on his left arm rest that turned on an intercom to the driver's cab. He asked if the driver would pull over here. The driver responded with a clear and polite "Yes sir". When the limo stopped, Ducane removed a wrist computer from underneath the sleeve of his suit. He tossed it to Entri.

The green venomian caught it with a clawed hand. He examined it a moment and the looked back to Ducane.

"There's someone I want you to follow and observe." Ducane passed a photo to Voldric. "That photograph was taken by a secret camera in the conference room during my private meeting with Kursed." That caused Voldric and Entri's eyes to widen.

"Kursed… You mean 'the Kursed'?" Entri stuttered.

"The one and only," Ducane replied.

"What in the hell does she want with you," Voldric said taking in the blue furred vixen's image.

"She is helping to escort the last shipment tomorrow, and I'm paying her a considerable amount of credits for her to do it."

"So why are you telling us this," Entri impatiently asked.

Ducane took the photo back in his hands and looked at her face, "I need to know if I can trust her. The stories about her say she is the most ruthless and unforgiving bounty hunter in Lylat today."

Ducane looked away from the photo and to the outside world through the limo window. "If all this about her is true, then I want to make sure she is on our side and not planning to sell us out to the highest bidder."

"Do you suspect she's working for the Cornerian's," Voldric questioned.

"Not likely. The Cornerian's don't bother mercenaries or bounty hunters unless the do something they don't like. And from the sound of things she's more trouble than she's worth to Corneria," Ducane chuckled, "Hell, they probably shoot her rather than hire her."

"Anyway, I gave her my personal PDA for her job so she'll be easy to track with that wrist computer," Ducane added.

"So you want us to tail her until we're convinced she's on our side or otherwise," said Entri.

Ducane answered, "Yes."

Entri clapped his hands together, "Well that sounds simple enough. When do we get started?"

Ducane grabbed the handle of his door and opened it, "Right now."

Voldric and Entri nodded and exited the limo. "Now listen to me when I say this. You don't want her find out that she's being followed, so keep your distance and stay away from her. If she is as loose as a cannon as everyone says, she won't hesitate to kill you both in public, so watch yourselves."

"Don't worry Marty. We'll get the job done," Voldric said to his friend.

"Hey boss," Entri said to Ducane.

"Huh. What is it Entri?"

"Before we get going, do you mind if you poured me a glass of that champagne, please," Entri asked.

Ducane sighed. He had forgotten what a drunk Entri could be. The guy was an alcohol fiend. It didn't matter what kind of alcohol it was, he would drink it and he would get drunk off it. This was actually one of the few times he and ever seen him sober. God only knew what the condition of his liver was.

"No Entri. I need you sober for this job," Ducane said with an aggravated tone.

"Ah come on boss! One glass is all I'm asking for," begged Entri.

"It's always one glass with you," Ducane snapped, "I give you one glass and it will turn into six glasses in five minutes! Next thing I know you'll be running around the casino and the club naked chasing after ever girl you see," Ducane slammed the limo's door and the limo suddenly sped off down the road.

"Oh I did that one time! One freakin' time," Entri yelled to the back of the limo as it sped away.

Sick and tired of hearing his partner's bickering, Voldric sent his fist barreling into the back of Entri's head.

"Damn it," Entri shouted in pain, "what the hell was that for, huh?"

"For being an idiot. Now come on, we got work to do and it isn't going to get down with you yelling into the air like a crazy moron with no common sense," Voldric said calm and collectively as he began walking down the street.

Entri reluctantly followed Voldric, cursing the black scaled venomian under his breath.


	3. Followed

Chapter Two

Followed

1832 hours (6:32 pm, Cornerian standard time)

February 5, 26 ALW (After Lylat War)

Planet Kew, Detrymin City

Krystal walked aimlessly through Detrymin's streets, her mind wandering as much as she herself was. When she told Abbas she was going out, she had no idea where she was going. It wasn't that she didn't know her way around or anything, she just felt like wandering. Though she let her mind drift, she knew that this was a recipe for disaster. She had to keep her guard up in such a dangerous city like Detrymin.

Krystal shook herself out of her trance. Maybe she should have gone to the suite and slept an hour or two. Krystal sighed. She looked around her. The streets were crawling with locals. Kew was melting pot of different species. It wasn't the kind of place you wanted to settle down on, unless you liked taking risks each and every day of your life.

Most of Kew population came about when the four mining companies were established. The four companies were always eager to hand out jobs to anyone who would work. Most people who lived here on Kew were poor any way, so when the mining companies came to Kew, job offers were being made to the population.

Most people who lived here and worked for any of the four companies were most likely working in the mines. Krystal wasn't an expert on the subject, but she would have to guess that the companies provided very good benefits if you worked for them, especially the Cornerian Central Mining. They had been known to provide there workers with very decent workers benefits.

This could only be achieved because the Cornerian economy was doing so well. Considering the sheer amount of damage the Anglar forces had inflicted on Corneria alone, it was a miracle that the economy was the way it was today. Kew was a large part of that, so the planet was more important the most people gave it credit for.

As she continued to walk down a cracked concrete sidewalk, her ears perked up at a low growling sound she barely heard. She turned her head in every direction. There wasn't anyone around her at the time she heard it. She listed carefully and waited to see if the sound would come again.

It did. It lasted a total of two seconds. Krystal knew now what it was, and now that she knew she felt stupid that she got herself worked up about it. Her stomach let out a third low growl, a bit louder than the last. Krystal sighed. She hadn't realized her own body's needs because she had been so lost in her thoughts. She figured that she should eat something and head back to the Royal Dragon and get some sleep.

She looked around for any place that looked like it served food. She knew she probably would have been better off eating at the Dragon where she knew the food would be safe to eat, but at this point she didn't care. She was hungry and she wanted food, even if it killed her. As she looked she came across an elderly chocolate lab who was on the ground looking for something. As she began to approach him she just happened to glance at the ground and saw a pair of large glasses lying on the ground.

She bent over to grab them when she heard the old man say, "Excuse me ma'am but it seems that this clumsy old dog has dropped his glasses. Would you mind helping me out?"

Krystal smiled gently and offered a hand to help the man up. He looked confused at first, probably because he saw Krystal as a blue blur in his eyes, but then he relized her intensions and took her hand. As he pushed his weight up with his frail, skinny legs, Krystal pulled with her arms until he was on his feet.

"Thank you," he said letting go of her hand and returning it to a cane he had at his side. "Now if I could find my glasses then-" Krystal slid the spectacles onto the bridge of his nose. With that the man's face lit up and gave Krystal a friendly smile.

"Well then, it looks like I owe you a favor my dear," the old lab said with much enthusiasm.

"Oh please no. It was nothing, really," Krystal said.

"Hmmm…," the old man tuned looking hard at Krystal's face, "your not from around here are you miss?"

Krystal stammered, "Um N-no I'm not. Why do you ask?"

"Because nobody from around here would have stopped to help an elderly man and show as much kindness as you have to me." The old mans smile grew even bigger, his white beard shifting to accommodate the smile.

This sort of threw Krystal off. She had forgotten where she was. It was a good thing that it was Krystal who had found her instead some thug who would've beat the old man to a bloody pulp just for the fun of it. Krystal scratched the back of her head a chuckled, "Oh your welcome, but it was really nothing. I'm just doing what's right."

The man's smile never left his face. "Even so, there must be something that this old lab can do for you."

Krystal was about to tell him again to not worry, but then her stomach let out a loud growl. Krystal's eyes widened and her face blushed underneath her fur. The lab let out a loud laugh and said, "Well there's no denying your stomach my dear. Sounds like you haven't eaten in awhile."

Krystal gave him an embarrassed grin, "Well actually I am a bit hungry. If you could please point out the nearest diner I would appreciate it."

The old lab cocked a brow and laughed. "A diner? Hah! There will be no need for that my dear. Please let me repay your kindness by cooking some real food. I insist!" Krystal was about to decline his offer, but before she could even get the words out of her mouth the lab took her hand and pulled at her to follow him, never once losing the kind and gentle smile from his face.

She couldn't say no to that. "Well… ok, but only because your being so insistent," Krystal said.

"Excellent, excellent," the old lab barked joyfully, "You shall not be disappointed my dear. Oh!" He stopped and faced her. "I'm so sorry my girl. I forgot to introduce myself, how rude of me. My name is Jean Alexander. And who do I owe the pleasure of cooking for today?"

She laughed, seeing as she had not introduced herself either, "My name is Kry-" She stopped in mid sentence. _What are you doing_, her thoughts screamed at her in her mind, _you're on an undercover mission to expose and catch a crime lord. You can't afford to expose yourself otherwise it could attract a lot of attention. Better go with your cover name just to be safe_.

"Oh I'm sorry. My mind went blank for a moment. My name is Kur-" Her conscience once again stopped her. _WAIT! No, no, no! I can't say 'I'm Kursed'! If I say that to him, he might drop dead from shock and fear! I mean I don't want to scare the poor man to death! Oooohhh! What do I say! What do I do!_

Mr. Alexander gave Krystal a confused look, "Are you alright Miss?"

Krystal's mind raced! For some reason, something her father had said to her when she was young came to mind.

"_Krystal, do you know what the core of honor is?"_ He asked her once.

"_Hmm… is it trust, father?" _She replied.

He smiled at her and put his hand on her head._ "A good guess. The core of honor is honesty. If you are always honest with someone then they will be able to trust you and they will be honest with you as well. You will always face hardships in life, my daughter, but friends make the hard times much easier. Do you understand?"_

Krystal found her resolve. This man had a good heart, and certainly worthy of her trust. She held out her hand and said, "My name is Krystal. It's nice to meet you Mr. Alexander."

His smile quickly returned to him. He reached out and shook her open hand. "Krystal, eh? What a beautiful name, it really suits you. A beautiful name and a beautiful young woman."

Krystal blushed and laughed, "Why thank you. It's nice of you to say such a thing."

After their introductions Jean motioned for her to follow him, saying that it was time to cure her hunger. As they walked down the sidewalk Krystal asked him why he lived here on Kew.

"Oh that's a long story. You see I work for the Cornerian Central Mining Company. I manage the building that you see there," He pointed to the 150 story skyscraper that could be seen just above the tops of the four to three story apartment buildings that surrounded the block they were on.

"Oh wow. You must make a good bit of money for yourself," Krystal said observantly, "But may I ask you something?"

"And what would that be," he said.

"If you're wealthy enough, why live here on Kew? Why not just retire with what you have and let someone else run the mines?"

"Well you see when I was still in my younger years I worked in the mines with the very same company. I worked my way up the ladder until there was finally an opening and the higher ups felt they needed someone with actual experience in the mines to run things."

"So they picked you," said Krystal.

He grinned, "You betcha'! I was made senior executive of this branch of the company two years ago, and things have been very smooth since then. The only reason I stay on this God forsaken planet is to keep everything here running."

"So if you work in at the CCM Building, then where are we going now," Krystal asked putting her hands in her camisoles pockets.

"There is a compound about a mile from here that serves as housing for CCM employees, metinance staff, and the workers. It's a very nice for being on such a run down planet like this. The housing for the workers is better than when I worked in the mines," Jean rummaged in his back pocket for something and pulled out his photo ID.

Krystal got a little worried about this. She figured that they ran a pretty tight shift on security around the compound. They may not let her in or they may ask her for her ID. She couldn't risk her cover being blown. Word would defiantly travel fast through Detrymin's streets, and it would eventually reach Ducane. Then what? Game over for the mission.

"Are you sure they'll let me into the compound? I'm not exactly from around here," Krystal said looking at the old lab's ID.

He pondered this a moment and then said, "You may have a point. But the guards at the gate know me very well. They know I wouldn't bring in a complete stranger unless I was sure they were alright. If the worst comes to pass we can say you're my son's fiancé," He let out a happy laugh at his last statement.

Krystal laughed too. Mr. Alexander took away her worry away instantly and they walked the rest of the way to the compound in happy conversation. But behind her joyful attitude, something tugged at her sixth sense. Her telepathy sensed a familiar thought pattern, but she couldn't place it. She hadn't realized she had zoned out until Jean snapped her out of it. For now, she just ignored her sixth sense. She felt whoever it was she was sensing wasn't hostile, just curious.

X

* * *

Voldric and Entri watched from a block away as the blue vixen they were told to follow helped up an elderly lab, stood and talked to him for a few minutes, and then preceded down the street with the man. From the looks of it they were having a very friendly conversation. This bothered Entri.

He snorted, "What was that all about? Thought she was supposed to be 'Lylat's deadliest bounty hunter'," Entri said making air quotes with his clawed fingers, "not some soft hearted pushover."

Voldric glanced over his shoulder, "She is. Doesn't mean she doesn't pity the weak. Or maybe she did it out of courtesy. The man was lucky. This is supposed to be one of the more dangerous parts of Detrymin."

Entri crossed his arms, unsatisfied by Voldric's explanation, "Right… Anyway, what exactly were we supposed to be following her for again?"

Voldric let out an irritated sigh, keeping his eyes on Kursed as she walked away, "You idiot, we're supposed to follow her to find any info on whether or not we can trust her. Weren't you paying attention to Boss's briefing?"

"Yeah, I was, I just forgot," he said staring at a neon yellow sign that flashed "Beer Served Here". He licked his lips and suddenly had the impulse to quench his thirst.

"Not good enough. You need to get your head out of the-," Voldric turned to see the green scaled Venomian staring at a sign for a local bar. He growled and launched foreword on Entri. Grabbing his partner by his shirt collar, Vodric slung Entri into the concrete wall of an apartment building.

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you," Entri yelled at his black scaled partner.

Vodric hoisted Entri by his collar into the air, making it hard for Entri to breathe.

Voldric barred his teeth, "Listen to me you alcohol crazed freak! We're on official business here! You got that! We are going to do as Boss told us and you're not going to screw that up! If you so much as think about any kind alcohol, I will skin you alive and make a pair of boots out of your scales!"

Entri snapped, "You sick bastard! How could you even consider skinning one of your own?"

Voldric brought him in closer, "You think that's wrong? That's nothing compared to what Boss will do to you if you screw this up!"

Entri was silent as he briefly thought about Voldric's words. He cringed at the thought of the perilous tortures Boss would put him through. He swallowed hard.

"Ok… Fair enough," said Entri calming himself. Voldric easily set Entri back on the ground. Voldric turned looked down the street just in time to see Kursed and the old lab round the street corner.

Voldric took off, "Come on! We got to keep eyes on her!"

Entri rubbed his temple and sighed. He hoped this was worth all the trouble. He hated all this sneaking around. He looked at the neon sign again. "Move your ass Entri," Voldric yelled already half way to the next block.

The green Venomian shook his head and muttered, "Ah hell," before taking of into a full sprint, quickly catching up with his partner soon after.

x

* * *

From the gravel roof of a Detrymin apartment building, a lone figure sat on the edge of the four story building, watching a blue vixen walk down the side walk with an aged chocolate lab. He raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and fixed them on the blue vixen.

"Good to see you again, Krystal," he said out loud from underneath a black hoodie. She hadn't changed much since the last time he had seen her. Her short cerulean colored hair had grown out. It now flowed down past her shoulders, giving her a much younger appearance. It looked good like that. She looked like she was having a nice conversation with the lab. A large grin split across her face, causing the man's heart to flutter. He hadn't been blessed with her smile in six months, so to see her smile from afar was a pleasure to him.

He put down the binoculars and watched as the two rounded a corner and proceeded down the street. Since she had helped the old man a few moments ago, he could tell that she was still as kind hearted as ever. "Some things never change, huh Krys? Well," he said placing the pair of binoculars in his small back pack, "I'm glad you didn't change. You're still the Krystal I've always known." Just as he got up to go something from below caught his attention.

He look back to see two Venomians, one green and one black sprint down the street and stop right underneath him. He saw the green one point in Krystal's direction. He would have just ignored the two of them had the green one not said out loud, "Look! There she is." His curiosity sparked within him. The hooded man quickly dashed to the other side of the roof and found a ladder to a fire escape that went straight to an alley that ran up right next to where the two Venomians were. Grabbing the ladder's rails and digging in feet into the rails, he lessened his grip and began to quickly slide down the ladder.

When his boots made contact with the concrete alley, the man silently dashed towards the alley way entrance. The two Venomians still stood there, their attentions turned on the blue furred vixen down the street. The green Venomian stood about medium height and had some kind of short, feathery scales sprouting up from his skull in a mohawk. He wore a grey thin layered shirt with a pair of black raggedy cargo pants. The other Venomian stood a bit taller than the green one and had shorter trimmed scale feathers then his equal. He had on a black denim jacket, a white collared shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. Both of them wore combat boots that appeared to be altered to accommodate there three clawed toes.

The man in the alley listened. "Where are they going," the green one said to the other Venomian, a little irritation in his voice.

The black one didn't respond immediately. A moment later he let out a gruff snarl. The green one asked what was wrong. "It's the old man. He must be a member of the Cornerian mining company," the black one said rubbing the back of his head. "Damn it. Listen Entri, for whatever reason Kursed has made a friend and my gut is telling me that they're heading to the housing complex north of here."

The green one said, "The security officials definitely wouldn't want her around, and I'm sure she knows that. Why would Kursed go there?

"I don't know," the black one responded, "but we can't let her go in, otherwise we'd lose her and then Boss would make both of us into boots. But how are we gonna keep them out and still remain hidden?" The black Venomian tilted his head and began brainstorming. As the man in the alley watched and listened to the pair, the green Venomian began to turn around. The man quickly ducked back into the alley way and sat with his back against the wall and head down. If the Venomian did see him, hopefully he would think he was just a homeless man. He stayed still and kept his eyes fixed on the ground from underneath his hoodie.

* * *

Entri turned and look at the wall of an alley way behind him. He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he wasn't quite sure what it was about. Before he could turn face foreword, he saw a large circle that had been spray painted in red to the point where it looked like blood. Inside the circle there was a dragon skull that had a barrel of a gun coming out of either eye, its tongue was sticking out about a foot and on it was sprayed the word "claws" in black. Entri immediately recognized the symbol as the Claws gang insignia.

Before he started working for Ducane, Entri was a high ranking member of the Claws gang, one of four gangs that controlled the streets of Detrymin, the others being the Fangs, the Zealots, and the Vecorash. Prior to Ducane taking control of the city, the Claws and the Fangs were the only gangs in Detrymin. The two gangs constantly fought over control of the city, but power never seemed to rest with just one side. When Ducane arrived on Kew, he negotiated a truce between the gangs, saying if they worked for him, then he would give equal opportunity for all and tstop the fighting.

The gang leaders nervously agreed to this, fearing it would not work out. But it did work. The first three years that Ducane controlled the city, business picked up rapidly, thanks to the gangs help in trafficking everything that made Ducane rich, as well as everything that was illegal in the Corneria's eyes.

The gangs had to become more secretive to avoid any conflict with Cornerian authorities. To make sure that the Cornerians never suspected Ducane's presence on Kew, the Fang and Claws gangs decided to split the gangs and there territories in half. This was how the Zealots and the Vecorash gangs were formed. By doing this they took on the image that there was no truce between the gangs and that they did not work for anyone bigger then themselves.

But even though the Claws and the Fangs were no longer fighting, the tension between the two did not die. Back when Entri was a Claw member, he always told his boys to never go into Fang territory unless they were on business. The fact remained that neither Fang nor Claw was welcomed into each other's territories, with exceptions to business from the Sin Dragon.

As he starred at the insignia that was tattooed on his back, an idea spawned. Entri grinned largely. Voldric was at wits end with what to do and turned to his partner to see him smiling. Voldric was intrigued, "What's got you in such a happy mood all the sudden?"

Entri looked at him, "I got an idea that could very well save our hides. Some of my old Claw buddies owe me some money. I figure if I cut him loose from his debt, he'll have to compensate. What better way than to go distract Kursed?"

Voldric was surprised. It was a good idea. They hired members of the Claws gang, they go distract Kursed and keep her out of the Cornerian compound, leaving him and Entri to watch from the side lines. And the best part, nobody gets skinned into boots. Everybody wins, except Kursed of course.

"You know, aside from your usual stupidity, this might actually work. Lead the way," Voldric said to his green partner.

Entri nodded and turned and headed into the alley way, Voldric following close behind him.

* * *

The man in the alley heard everything. He stayed down as the two Venomians walked past him, taking no notice of the hooded man sitting against the wall. The man waited a short twenty seconds before rising up and heading down the alley. It didn't take long to catch up with the pair. As the two rounded a corner, the hooded man pressed his back against the wall. He looked around the edge of his cover to see the green Venomian conversing with a large bob cat that was missing a considerable amount of his left ear.

The group let out a laugh and the bob cat stepped aside and allowed the Venomians to pass through. The man became discouraged. He was hoping to just take out the two Venomians, but now it looked like he was going to have to do things the hard way. The hooded man looked and saw an old blanket on the ground. He grabbed it and cloaked himself in it. He the bent down and scooped up some dirt and smeared it all over his face. He now had the appearance of a malnourished and sickly beggar. The man under the hood laughed a bit as he turned the corner and began to limp down the alley.

As he made his way down the alley, he began rummaging through trash cans and piles of garbage to make his appearance as a beggar more believable and to search for a weapon. About halfway down the alley he found an old pair of leather boots with the laces still in place. He started to remove the laces from one of the boots, coughing a few times for the sake of his costume. The bob cat had been eyeing him since he rounded the corner. But the man was sure that his disguise was working. After all, this bob cat was probably used to seeing homeless beggars on this planet. When he had removed both laces from the boots the man continued down the ally.

The man noticed a weapon resting against the wall besides the door to what he guessed was a Claws gang hideout or something. It was an old model Quad-Beam blaster, one that looked like it had been in some really ugly situations. That would be really helpful to him after dealing with the bob cat. When he got within a few feet the bob cat called out to him, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

The "beggar" looked up and in a croaking voice said, "Sir I'm just an unlucky SOB," the man cough loudly a few times, "I'm in withdrawal man. I haven't had any Dust in three days." The man coughed again. "Can ya help me out brother?"

The bob cat looked down at him. There was a short pause before the bob cat busted into laughter. "You think you have the right to call me brother," the bob cat yelled. "Your just trash," with that the bob cat swung out with his right in attempt to knock the beggar into next week. The beggar looked up at the cat and smiled. The cat had barely enough time to react when all the sudden his fist was wrapped around an empty blanket. Still in shock the bob cat tried to find the man that had been wrapped in the blanket up until a second ago. Then there was a burning pain in his neck.

He lifted his hands and found two thick strings wound tightly around his neck. The bob cat panicky called out to his friends inside. But he couldn't. The beggar was behind the cat holding the boot laces in a tightly crossed X. "Not bad for trash, huh," the beggar said pulling on the opposite ends of the boot laces tighter and tighter. The bob cat spasmed for a few more seconds and then went limp.

The beggar released his grip on the bob cat and let his now lifeless body fall to the ground. Acting quickly, the man grabbed the cat's arms and dragged him behind a group of trash cans. Crouching down over the body, he began to scavenge the cat's body for supplies, mainly ammo. He was rewarded with a satchel that was full of plasma cartridges for the Quad blaster. After he draped the bob cat with the old blanket, the hooded man grabbed the Quad blaster and leaned against the door frame.

The Quad blaster was defiantly old. Instead of the semi-auto feature found on most blasters nowadays, this relic was pump action. The man tested slide of the hand grip, opening up the firing chamber. The blaster was already loaded with the eight plasma cartridges. Normally blasters were powered by plasma batteries as an alternative to individual cartridges. Depending on the blaster type, plasma batteries would offer more than a hundred shots per battery, which made it easier to carry around multiple batteries as apposed thousands of individual rounds which were only good for one shot.

He reached with his hand and slowly turned the door handle and found it was unlocked. He lifted the blaster's barrel and slowly walked into the Claws hideout. Up head he could hear laughing and some one throwing around profanity in a good-humored fashion.

* * *

Entri laughed with his old friends from when he was a Claws member. In front of him and Voldric was skinny, scared rat by the named Marcsly. He didn't look like he was in a laughing mood after what Entri had just told him. The rat hesitantly scratched the back of his head and twitched a bit. Ever since he had quit huffing Dust he had acquired a twitch that seemed to only appear when he was nervous, and right now he was on the verge of shaking.

"I don't know Entri," Marcsly said with a quivering sound beginning to show in his voice, "this sounds like a really bad idea. I mean we are talking about Kursed! The most 'scare the shit out of you' bounty hunter in Lylat. I'm not sure if I-"

"Look Marcsly, you guys don't have to fight her. Just take some pot shots and make sure that she stays the hell away from that compound. If you can do that, then those 800 credits you owe me will disappear, never to be spoken of again."

Marcsly still looked nervous, "Well… Alright you got a deal Entri. But no tricks! I swear, I may owe you one but I better not get double crossed just 'cause you work for the Dragon."

Entri smiled and bowed a little bit. "I'm a man of my word and liquor."

Somehow that didn't make Marcsly feel any better about doing this. He scratched his head and called the others to get their stuff.

* * *

The man had to act quickly. A ferret and another feline emerged from another room, both brandishing weapons. The rat reached into his vest and pulled out a blaster pistol. The hooded man had to take action or things were going to go bad quick. He quickly retreated back out the door he entered the hideout through and shouldered the quad blaster. Slipping his finger through the trigger guard and squeezing the trigger, the Quad blaster fired of four bright red plasma bolts. The sound of the weapons report wasn't as loud as a powder loaded round, but it was certainly loud enough for it to be heard from inside the hide out. The man grabbed and loaded a plasma cartridge into the weapon and worked the pump.

He then braced himself against the wall next to the door. He could he somebody shouting a name from inside, most likely the bob cat the man dispatched a while ago. The hooded figure heard rapid foot steps approaching the door. Just then the ferret busted through the door, sending it flying the opposite direction on its hinges. The door connected with his body. The force behind the door caused some pain but the man simply ignored it.

Knowing that the cat was close behind the ferret, the man took aim on the first figure and fired. The four super heated plasma bolts struck the ferret center of his back. The man dashed from behind his cover, hefting the Quad blaster by its buttstock, and swung at the feline. The barrel of the blaster struck the side of the feline with a great deal of force. It sent him tumbling to the ground with his hands around his head, screaming.

The man pumped a new round into the blaster's firing chamber and aimed down at the feline's chest. He quickly ended the feline's life with a simple trigger pull. The man turned and went back inside the hide out, pumping the blaster as he went through the door. As soon as he rounded the corner he was met with the rat. The skinny rodent looked at the hooded figure in terror and only managed to raise his blaster half way before the man shot him. As the rat's body collapsed he quickly racked up another round and aimed at the two Venomians. They were lost in disbelief.

"Well don't just stand there," the man yelled at the two to add to thier confusion. Closing the distance between the Venomians and himself, the man smacked the black one in the gut with the buttstock. As the black Venomian double over, the man sent his right fist barreling into the other Venomian's jaw. But before the green scaled Venomian could hit the floor, the man grabbed and screamed in his face, "This is Fang territory now! You tell all your other pals to get there asses out of the district now ASAP! Or so help me God I'll kill you all myself!"

The man dropped the Venomian, reared his foot back, and sent it crashing in to the green one's face, knocking him unconscious instantly. The man took a step back and over looked his handy work. _'Well that went better then I expected'_, the man thought. When the two survivors awoke from unconsciousness, they would most defiantly report back to their boss about what happened. The man knew about the tensions between the Claws and the Fangs, and he knew exactly how this would all play out in the coming hours.

First the attack is reported to the Sin Dragon and the rest of the Claws gang. Next, Claws confront Fangs about the attack. Fangs deny ever planning and/or being involved in an attack against the Claws. Combined anger and urge for revenge leads Claws members to strike first on the Fangs. Fangs retaliate as well. The civil war between the rival gangs starts again. The Sin Dragon is pressed by both sides for his help. Sin Dragon becomes unable to control the gang war and flees Kew for his safe house. That's when the Cornerians will move in. Corneria forces raid the Sin Dragon's safe house and take him into custody. The end.

All of the internal conflict between the gangs would give Krystal enough time to find the location of Sin Dragon's safe house as well as the location of where he kept his merchandise. This was the final step in bringing down everything that Sin Dragon had done. But it all came down to one thing: Krystal. She was sent undercover all those months ago for this purpose. She had successfully infiltrated the enemy's sanctuary. She had earned there trust. And know all she had to do was hand over the information that she had collected to a Cornerian agent who had also been undercover for sometime.

But the man was bent on getting to Krystal first. The agent would just have to suck up the fact that a mercenary had beaten him at his job. Before he left the Claws hide out, the man went through and took anything of value on the dead Claws members and the two Venomians. If he was going to sell the idea that gangs had raided the place, he needed to make it look believable. He went through hide out and searched and took any credits he found.

He then took the Quad blaster and reloaded it to max capacity with the cartridges he had left in the satchel. The man started firing off shots into the wall to make it appear a fire fight had occurred in the hide out. When he had exhausted all the shells he had, which took roughly thirty minutes, the man dropped the and blaster headed out the door. As he walked through the ally way the man pulled out the credits he had taken and began counting.

He grinned when his number reached "250". Maybe he could find a decent place to eat on this rock. He exited the streets and removed the black hood over his head, revealing his golden fur that glowed in the bright Kew sunlight. He started heading east, towards the next agenda on his list.


	4. Resonance

AUTHOR'S NOTE: He guys! Sorry I keep re-uploading this chapter, but I wasn't as thorough with the proof reading this chapter as I wanted, so please forgive me  
Thanks!  
WolF

Chapter Three

Resonance

**1924 hours (7:24 Cornerian standard time)**

**February 5, 26 ALW (After Lylat War)**

**Planet Kew, Detrymin City,**

**Cornerian Central Mining Company (CCMC) Housing Compound**

Krystal gave a satisfied sigh as she set her spoon in the empty soup bowl. Jean had prepared a very quick meal, a soup of noodles with beef broth and chunks of steak that had been added to the mix. She also smelled and tasted soy sauce in the broth, which gave it a very good flavor with the beef flavored broth. She licked her lips and leaned back in her chair.

"Absolutely delicious," Krystal said

When they reached the CCMC compound, they had passed through with little to no trouble. The guards were a little uncertain about letting in a stranger, as Krystal had predicted, but after much reassurance by Jean, they let her through, as he predicted.

Jean smiled at her through his thick grey mustache. "Good, I'm glad you liked it. It's and incredibly simple recipe, yet it yields so much flavor. I do wish I could have prepared a more proper meal, but it would have taken too long. And I sense you have somewhere to go."

Krystal looked at him. He was right. Ducane said that the last shipment would leave for its destination early the next morning. She really needed to get some sleep and be ready for tomorrow. She also had to meet with the Cornerian agent who would also be undercover. The only problem was she had no knowledge of who he was.

All she knew is that he would make contact with her by saying, "November is in truth". She would respond, "Then I am filled with cold lies." She had no idea what it was supposed to mean, but that didn't really matter. She would then relinquish the coordinates for Ducane's safe house and the merchandise warehouse. She hadn't even gone over the info in the PDA Ducane had given her.

As she thought about all this, she hadn't even noticed Jean had taken her bowl to the sink and began washing it. When she realized this she jumped up from the table to help, but Jean had already turned to her and said, "Don't worry about it. You look like you got a lot on your mind."

He couldn't be more right. Krystal pushed in her chair and walked into the living room. Jean's home was a two bed roomed condo that was the perfect size for someone who lived on their own. The living room had hard wood ebony floors with a dark red and white rug in the center with a stone coffee table on top. On the left side of the table sat a black leather recliner. The recliner appeared as if it had been sat in for many years.

The wall next to the recliner was a granite fireplace and above it was a 42 inch plasma flat screen tv. The wall across from the fireplace was a book shelf that was built in the wall. The eight shelves were filled with books of different sizes. There were a few framed pictures as well; one in particular caught her eye. She approached the book shelf and grasped the framed 5 by 5 photo.

In the picture was a young chocolate lab in a Cornerian military dress uniform. But it was not one she recognized. She knew that the Cornerian Marine Corp officers wore a dress blue uniform with a blood red stripe down the middle of the uniform. She knew that the Cornerian Naval officers-or Cornerian Space Naval Forces- wore a completely white dress uniform with two blue stripes on both arms of the jacket.

But the officer in the photo, a chief warrant officer, wore a black dress uniform with a blood red stripe down the center and two red stripes on both arms. This one wore a black beret with a red and black flash on the beret. The ribbons on the left breast of the uniform looked like a small flag with a variety of colors.

He had three medals pinned on the opposite side; a silver star, a Cornerian Medal of Valor, and a Purple Heart. Two of the ribbons she recognized also; an electrical blue, dark blue and mechanical grey ribbon showing that the man in the photo had served in the Aparoid Crisis. The other was lavender with magenta and cyan mixed in. She knew this as a service ribbon from the Anglar Blitz. Before she saw the ribbons, she began to think it was Jean in the picture, but the ribbons proved it wasn't him.

As she looked at the photo, Jean approached her, this time Krystal was aware of his movements. She turned to him and showed him the picture. But before she could ask he answered her question.

"His name is Kona. He's my son." Krystal remembered Jean saying if the guards wouldn't let her into the compound that he would tell the guards that she was his son's fiancé come to visit him. She didn't think that he actually had a son.

In the picture, Kona stood up straight as a bored, with a blank emotionless face. It may have been emotionless but it was strong also. His yellow eyes stood out a good deal. They looked like the eyes of a hawk, always fierce and always on the hunt for prey. They were piercing, as if the framed photo was staring right into Krystal's soul. On the bridge of Kona's nose was a dirty blonde spot.

"What's that on his nose," she asked the father of the framed soldier.

Jean laughed, "That's a birth mark he got from his mother. She was a chocolate lab too, but she had bits of blonde in her hair and fur. With the way it mixes in his brown fur, it almost looks like dirt on his nose."

Krystal laughed as well, "I bet he didn't care for it too much."

"He got picked on a lot when he was in school because of it, but he came through. Lord knows he had a tuff enough life as it was," Jean said moving away from the photo the old leather recliner.

"I'm glad he decided to get of this rock. I wish I could have worked hard enough to send him of to a university, but the life of a miner was hard back then. But look at him now," he said pointing to the three year old photo, "a soldier. Lord have mercy, I thought I never see that day." Jean wore a proud smile as he looked on at his photographed son.

Krystal walked across the room and looked out a window towards the city. The three towers stood above all else into the dingy colored sky. Although it was still only a little after noon here, back on Corneria the sun would be half way down the horizon. From what Ducane said, the last shipment would be transported tomorrow. Krystal guessed that they would leave in the early hours of morning, sometime right before or around dawn.

That gave her plenty of time to head back to the Royal Dragon and get some rest. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. "What about you Krystal," Jean said snapping Krystal out of thoughts, "do you have any loved ones. A husband... A boyfriend surly."

Krystal thought about this for a second. She turned around and faced Jean. "Yes, I do. But I haven't seen him in awhile," said Krystal. Jean could hear the longing in her voice.

Jean asked, "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Six months ago… I haven't spoken to him since."

Jean gave her a questionable look, "Did you two break up? Must have been some big fight."

"No no, nothing like that… I had to… I…," Krystal couldn't find a way to explain it to him without leaking out details. "It's complicated."

Jean got up and approached her. "Krystal, let me ask you something. Do you love this man?" The words made Krystal's heart rate increase.

She answered immediately, "Yes."

Jean asked next, "And does he love you?"

She didn't respond until five long seconds had past, "Yes, he does."

Jean's smile returned, "Then why are you here? You're still young. The both of you have the rest of your lives to live, and you're here on this cesspool of a planet."

"I know," Krystal said, "I know. And I want to be with him more than anything else. It's just…. I have something to do hear…It's important." Tears began form in her eyes, but Krystal rubbed them out before they had a chance to escape.

Jean put his hand on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "It's ok Krystal. I don't know what it is that's so important you have to do in this awful city, but I know that it must be important if you're here."

Krystal tried her hardest to fight back the wave of emotions coming over her, but she had never talked to anyone about this in so many months. She hugged Jean with shaky arms and Jean embraced her like she was his own.

"Don't cry my dear. It will be all right," Jean said holding the sobbing vixen. "Listen to me," he said bring her back, face to face. "If it was me in your place, I'd do whatever it is that needs doing so. The faster you finish this, the sooner you two will be together. So don't cry. It's will all work out in the end."

Krystal gave him the best smile she could muster, "Thank you… Thank you so much." She hugged the old man again, tighter this time.

The old lab smiled and said, "Now I don't know this man, but if he truly loves you, you'll be seeing him sooner than you might think."

"What makes you think that," Krystal asked wiping her tears off her face.

"Well, if it was me separated from my love for that long, then I'd go through hell just to find her again."

Krystal smiled at this thought. She smiled because she knew that Fox would do the very same thing… and then some. It would come as a surprise to her later, but when it would come, a part of her would be expecting it. When she and the man she loved would finally be reunited.

**1924 hours (7:30 Cornerian standard time)**

**February 5, 26 ALW (After Lylat War)**

**Planet Kew, Detrymin City Outskirts**

**Unknown Dragon Warehouse**

Ducane sat in his office at the warehouse where the drugs, weapons, and girls were being loaded on to cargo ships to be shipped to the Dragon Marketplace at the Meteo instillation. He would be leaving that night to see that last of the shipments arrive at the Dragon Market. His office had been cleared of anything that could be traced. It looked exactly the way he had found it, abandoned. He finished looking over the last of the paper work that showed who held ownership of the Royal Dragon.

Of course the form had an alias name on it, but the Cornerians would soon be able to find out about it and they would be after him again. He had to give them something that would satisfy the Cornerian's appetite. Tonight was the anniversary party for the Royal Dragon. All the members of his committee, the men who ran the markets through out Lylat, would be attending the party.

He was sure that the Cornerian military would raid the club and the warehouse soon. Though he didn't have enough intel to precisely say whether or not the Cornerians even knew where to attack, he had to assume his whole operation on Kew was compromised. When they raided his club, they would find the members of his committee. They were cowards, who were only concerned with money and their own survival. If they were captured, he knew that they would tell the Cornerians everything they knew.

Although they had no knowledge of his identity, the committee members knew the locations of the individual markets within Lylat, except for the one in Meteo. Each one of the committee members would give up the info that would hamper Ducane's efforts to regain control. If this happened, it would take years for Ducane to reestablish any footholds on any planet in Lylat. He was not going to let that happen. He had worked for to long and had sacrificed too much to get this far, and nothing was going to stop him now, not Corneria, not Lylat, not even God himself.

Ducane signed the last of the club lease papers and the sat back and examined the lease papers. It was finished. He now no longer owned the Royal Dragon. It now was owned by the name Ducane signed in the papers. The name of his soon to be sacrificial lamb and his double. The signature read: Entri Keldom. Ducane's toothy grin began to form.

He had not meant for Entri to be thrown to the wolves, but sacrifices had to be made if the Dragon Market was going to continue. He felt no remorse for doing so. He felt no shame. He had done this kind of thing to many times since he had started the Dragon Market, so he was used to it. He did feel some pity for Entri though. But he did take some comfort in that Entri would have some last moments of happiness before his death.

While Entri posed as the Sin Dragon at the anniversary party tonight, Voldric would tell the staff that Entri was to be given the time of his life. He would be allowed to eat as much as he wanted, drink as much as he wanted, and sleep with any of the girls who worked in the strip club at the Royal Dragon. Then when the Cornerians raided the place, Voldric would stage a shoot out and kill all the committee members and Entri.

Ducane was worried at first if Voldric would be able to carry out his orders or not. He and Entri had worked together for some time, and although the never cared for each other's company, Ducane felt that they had gained a professional respect for each other. But Ducane knew Voldric. He knew that Voldric would do what was necessary. Voldric was Ducane's top assassin and he had never failed him. He would not now. All that Ducane had to do was give Voldric his orders and he would take Entri to the Royal Dragon and get the party started.

His pieces were almost in place, save for two: Voldric and Entri. He had not heard from them since he had given them his orders an hour ago. He wondered how their mission was going. Just then somebody busted into his office.

Abbas approached his desk, in a hurry too. "What is it Abbas," Ducane said to his body guard.

"Sir, its Entri and Voldric. There here," Abbas said, a nervous tone was in his voice.

"Good it's about time. They had better have some good info for me," Ducane said getting up from his desk.

Before Ducane could head for the door, Abbas stopped him. "Sir, there's something else."

"What," the Sin Dragon questioned.

Abbas told him, and what Ducane heard set his rage ablaze.

_X

Ducane did not walk out the door. He busted through it. The door's wooden frame had been subjected to years of termite damage. The hinges were old and rusted, just like the rest of the warehouse. So when Ducane ran through the door, he literally ran through it. The door exploded into dozens of pieces. Two of the hinges had been ripped off as well, attached to large pieces of rotted wood.

He didn't even notice the door he had just broken through. Ducane ran across the cat walk that led to the metal staircase. Abbas was far behind him, following his master as fast as he could. Ducane flew down the stair case so fast, Abbas couldn't believe that he hadn't tripped or fallen down. When the Sin Dragon's feet left the rusted steel stair case, they were set to the warehouse's concrete floor.

The warehouse looked like an old aircraft hanger. It had the two large bulk head doors that opened horizontally and the building structure was set up like a hanger, but the warehouse was fundamentally much larger than an old hanger. The ground floor was a few thousand square feet and it was at least thirty feet from the ground floor to the rafters and the ceiling. There were tons of metal storage units stacked up on top of each other, but these were all empty.

Ducane reached the doors and walked through the ten foot gap between the two doors. Outside the warehouse were several cargo ships with loading crews stowing crates of weapons in their hulls. The drugs were kept in environmentally sealed crates, so as to keep them from contamination. The girls were also loaded into metal storage units, but those units had holes drilled in the ceiling to let in air.

The Sin Dragon saw a large group of men standing around in front of the warehouse. When he reached the outside of the group, Ducane began to shove his way through the men standing there towards the center. Lying on the ground, in the center of the group was Entri and Voldric, both of them looked like hell. Voldric was sitting upright, arms on his knees and his chest exhaling and inhaling rhythmically. Entri was lying face down unconscious on the crack concrete, several spots on his head were bleeding, a large purple bruise had began to swell on his right jaw bone, and his eye on the same side had been blackened.

Voldric looked up and saw Ducane standing over the both of them. "I'm sorry Marten, but we lost Kursed," Voldric looked down at the ground, ashamed and broken.

Ducane took a knee and put a hand on his old friend's shoulder. Voldric looked into Ducane's eyes. They were calm, but there was an underlying rage beneath that calm facade. "What happened Voldric? Who did this to you both?"

"We had been tailing Kursed, but she was heading for that Cornerian Mining compound. Entri had come up with a plan of enlisting some of his old friends from the Claws gang. But some guy…" Voldric voice trailed off and his sight line returned to the ground. At that moment Ducane saw something he had never seen in Voldric: Fear.

"Voldric," Ducane said.

Voldric's eyes returned to the Sin Dragon. "Some guy busted into the place and killed all of the Claws, and left Entri and I alive… But he beat the hell out of us. He said…"

He trailed off again, but only for a few seconds. "He said to tell the other Claws to get out of the district. That it was Fang territory now."

Ducane made an angry frown. He got up from his knees and turned around and walked out of the crowd. He stood there alone thinking. What Voldric had said about the Fangs was unsettling in his stomach. Abbas had told him earlier that both the leaders of the Claws were infuriated by an attack on one of their gangs. They had said if something wasn't done by Ducane to fix the situation, they would split from the pact Ducane had made years ago and they would seek retribution against the Fangs.

Abbas, not three minutes after receiving the Claws' message, received one from the Fangs as well. They denied having any involvement in the attack and the murder of the Claws members, and also that whoever committed those murders was not a member of the Fangs.

Now, the startling and unsettling truth was now a reality. The two gangs would soon be at war again, and Ducane doubted that there was anything he could say or do to fix it. The Claws had always been quick to shoot first and never ask questions. The Fangs were always very mild mannered on the outside, but when it came down to it, could be extremely violent. Ducane knew that the Claws would strike first, and when they did the Fangs would be at Ducane for help. The Claws would accuse him of double crossing them if he did help.

It came down to his next move: What to do?

Abbas approached him, having been outside the crowd as Ducane began to talk to Voldric. "The gangs are going to be looking for your support sir."

"I know Abbas," Ducane said flatly. The look on his face made Abbas think he had tasted something rather unpleasant.

"If I may say, sir, the Fangs would be the most reasonable one's to help. From the look of things, it doesn't-"

"Sound like the Fangs attacked," Ducane said finishing his bodyguard's sentence.

"Yes, yes exactly!" Abbas said.

Ducane knew from the moment Abbas told him about the gang situation, right before he busted through the rotted door of his office, that the Fangs were in no way involved in the attack. The Fangs were much more collected and civilized then the Claws, and possibly more violent. No Fang would ever purposely go looking for trouble. Ducane wasn't sure about this, but he had a feeling, paranoid or not, that the Cornerians had something to do with this.

'_Well played, Hare… Well played indeed,' _Ducane thought clenching his fists tighter and tighter.

"Your orders, sir. Shall we aid the Fangs?" Abbas asked

Ducane replied coldly, "No."

"The Claws then?" Abbas inquired again.

"No," Ducane repeated just as coldly.

Abbas was puzzled. "Sir?"

Ducane turned to face his bodyguard, "We're leaving Kew. That means we leave no traces. The gangs have served there purpose, now I will wash my hands of them and let them crucify each other."

Abbas had never heard such cruel hatred from his master in many years. His silent rage seemed to glow around him like a black red aura. He reeked of anger. Abbas was only comforted by the fact that he was on his side.

"As you wish, sir." Abbas said calmly

"For now we stick to the plan." Ducane said turning around, "Get those two cleaned up and ready for the anniversary party."

"Yes sir, it will be done." Abbas bowed as his master walked back to the warehouse. Ducane didn't so much as glance over his shoulder. He was going back to his office to take out his anger and frustration on the walls and the furniture. He would later make it look like there had been a bar fight in the small cramped space.

X 

**1945 hours (7:45 Cornerian standard time)**

**February 5, 26 ALW**

**Planet Kew, Detrymin City**

**The Royal Dragon Casino and Gentlemen's Club**

Kursed approached the Royal Dragon's entrance. The two bouncers from earlier that day had taken their old positions on either side of the door. She didn't look directly at either one of them as she walked up to the door, but did she give off a toothy smile as she walked past them, showing off her pearly white fangs. The wolverine and the boxer, especially the boxer, felt a cold chill run up their spines. The both of them tried their hardest to ignore her, keeping their head and eyes directly foreword.

She opened one of the glass doors and walked inside. The bouncers suddenly felt a wonderful feeling of relief wash over them. They looked over and smiled weakly at one another. But suddenly fear clutched them again. They heard a voice, the voice of a woman who enjoyed seeing the purest form of fear in anyone she came across.

"_Don't relax just yet, boys. My fun with you isn't over."_ The voice ended with maniacal, insane laughter that made the bouncer's thick and strong muscled legs become as limp as wet noodles.

They both looked around them, expecting to find some one hiding behind the corner whispering that bone chilling voice and laughing that cackle of insanity into their ears. But there was no one around them but each other.

Except their ears heard nothing. They heard the voice from inside them selves, inside their heads. The boxer must have reached his limit, because the moment after the laughter stopped, he screamed bloody murder and fell to his knees, terror clawing at his fragile mind. The wolverine went over to his partner to try to help him, just as afraid as he was.

Kursed laughed loudly as she walked across to the middle of the casino up to the staircase. She could feel the tension of anyone who heard her laugh. She loved using her telepathy to scare the living crap out of people, especially her enemies. It brought such a sweet satisfaction to her.

There were now more people in the casino then there had been earlier. Employees had been busily preparing the casino for some grand event, and then they heard Kursed's dark laughter and they all stopped dead in their tracks. She kept the laughter up as she ascended the casino staircase. She reached the top of the stairs and continued down the right hall until her laughter could be heard no more.

The casino employees loosened up for a total of three seconds, and then they heard the sobbing screams from the boxer outside the door. And again, they all felt the contagious grasp of fear in them all. They all had been infected by the fear spread by a truly evil woman.

X

She stepped off the elevator and onto the top floor of the Royal Dragon. Krystal felt awful. She felt guilty and responsible for Kursed having set fear ablaze in those people. She knew none of them, yet she felt that no one should be subjected to that kind of terror. She wished she had never turned to Kursed to help her in this mission. It was like selling your soul to the devil, and having the devil periodically take control of you.

'_Why are you feeling sorry for them?'_ Kursed's voice echoed through her mind. _'Now they are afraid of us! No one could possibly want to mess with us now!'_

Krystal sighed. She didn't answer her. She hated talking to the separate mind within her consciousness. It made her feel nauseous. Though Kursed was very powerful and could often over power Krystal and take control, the mind and body still belong to Krystal, so she was sometimes able to lock Kursed away in the darkest recess of her mind. But often Krystal suspected that Kursed enjoyed being down there, like a child who finds sitting in the corner a fun game instead of punishment.

The elevator had opened up to a much smaller hallway that the one Ducane's bodyguard had led her through. The hall was at least fifteen feet long with glass doors on both sides that lead to what looked like a balcony. Directly in front of the elevator, about seven to eight feet away, was an old fashioned lock and knob door. The door was black with red trim around it. The hallway ways were painted the same dark red that colored Ducane's scales. The ceiling crown molding was painted gold with intricately carved designs in the wood.

_Whoever had been paid to design and build this hall way must have been a skilled craftsman_, Krystal thought gawking at the halls design. She moved towards the black door with the silver lock and knob. At first she thought the sliver plated lock and the knob had deep scratches on it, but on closer inspection discovered that the lock and the knob had the same intricate design had been crafted into the metal work of the lock and knob. The designs were colored black and greatly resembled the tribal style tattoos Krystal would expect to see on the arms and backs of men. Some men from Cerinia even carried almost identical tattoo patterns on their bodies. It was a design worn by warriors.

This made Krystal sick to think that Ducane might think of him self as a warrior. '_No… Not a warrior'_, her thoughts whispered,_ 'a Fool who ruins lives…'_

Krystal reached into her left pants pocket and pulled out the key ring Ducane had given her. "One opens the suite, the other opens anything inside the suite," she said quoting Ducane's words out loud.

She slipped one of the keys inside the keyhole on the sliver and tribal decorated lock plate. When the key fit snuggly inside, she twisted the key to the left. There was a distinct sound of tumblers turning and a quiet _click_ inside the plate. Krystal grasped her hand around the knob and turned it. The door opened and Krystal stepped inside a spacious, beautifully decorated living room. The floor around the door was stone tile floor, a place for the suite's occupants to remove their shoes, no doubt. The tile only centered around the door, as the rest of the living room floor was covered in a soft, short white-gray colored carpet.

Krystal shut the door behind her, almost forgetting to take the key out of the door. After she closed the door, she went straight to unlacing her boots. She had to sit down on the tile as she started pulling on her right boot. After a couple of tugs, the boot slipped of revealing Krystal's sock covered foot. She repeated the process with the other boot. She then pulled both socks off her feet and stood up.

The tile was cold underneath her feet, but it felt nice. She took one solid step onto the carpet. She smiled at the carpet's silky smooth feel. The living room had two black futons on either side of a glass coffee table, above which was a glass light fixture. The futons looked like if they were pushed backwards they would flatten into a bed. The suite had ceiling to floor windows that let in a great deal of sun light. Krystal walked across the living room and saw that there was a large balcony with a hot tub, deck chairs, and a sun awning that was rolled up.

Krystal looked to her left and saw a door with the same style lock that she had opened the suite's entrance door. She looked down at the keys in her hand and ran her thumb over the key she hadn't used yet. She walked to the door and inserted the key and grasped the knob. She twisted the key and then did the same with the door knob. The door opened into a luscious and very furnished kitchen.

She walked in and found that the carpet had ended at the door and brown hardwood flooring took its place. The kitchen had stoves built into the wall, one above the other, and next to them was a glass ceramic electric stove with five burners. Adjacent to the electric stove was a double bowled sink , a dish washer between the stove and the sink but closer to the floor, and a large fridge at the end of the counter close to the door; all the necessities of a standard kitchen, but all stainless steel and very expensive looking.

Across from the kitchen appliances was and island with a cutting board style counter top. The island was about the same length as the counter from the dish washer to the fridge (about four and half feet. She opened one of the drawers that occupied the side of the island and found a set of steel forks, knives and spoons, all nicely polished in there individual dividers.

She shut the drawer and examined the rest of the room. Across the kitchen was a round wooden table with six chairs that sat in front of another glass wall that looked out onto the balcony outside. She just now realized this, but balcony and the patio did not match the view. Beyond the balcony was just rusty brown horizon with dirt colored clouds. The cityscape below was also easy to see from the balcony, and it wasn't very uplifting either. Krystal felt this building, or this suite at least, was incredibly out of place. This was the kind of suite that belonged in a five star hotel at some tropical resort.

Not a rundown, criminal infested city. She sighed and walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room. She crossed the living room and sat down on the futon closest to the kitchen door. There was another door across the living room, exactly adjacent to the kitchen door. She had no clue what was behind that door, but she would figure out later. She hadn't seen the suitcase with her credits in it in the suite yet, so maybe it was in the room behind that door.

She would soon find out. Right now, she had only one thing on her mind. She reached into her camisole's right pocket and remove the PDA Ducane had given her. She then unzipped the camisole and pulled it of her torso, revealing a tight fitted white tank top. She sat her camisole to the side and leaned back into the futon. Krystal turned on the PDA's power and waited for the home screen to appear. When it finally did, there was a file on the home screen that was labeled "MISSION BREIFING".

She poked the touch screen and opened the file and began to read every bit of information thoroughly.

X

**One Hour Later….**

Isaac Staton brushed past the door to the main kitchen carrying a white empty platter. The middle aged coyote worked as a waiter at the Royal Dragon, and tonight was the busiest night he had ever worked. He came to the counter where the orderves were being prepared and place on to platters for the waiters to come pick up and serve to the guests.

The guests had begun to show up a little after eight, arriving by the masses out side the casino in limousines and exotic sports cars that Isaac had only seen in magazines. Isaac couldn't even believe that so many people came to this casino's anniversary party. It must have been the most popular party in Lylat, and that they were all filthy stinking rich and they came to one of the poorest planets in Lylat to party. Oh the irony.

He sat his platter down on the stainless steel counter top. The kitchen was hustle and bustle as some of the best cooks and chefs in Lylat prepared delicacies for the steadily arriving guests. The owner of the casino, whoever he was, must have been very proud of himself to have some many extravagant guests for his party.

Isaac looked around and saw how busy the cooks were in the kitchen. Then he saw none of the other waiters had returned from either getting orders or serving the orderves. Nobody was paying a bit of attention to him. A smile crept along his face. He had been working since before the guest had arrived. He thought he deserved a short break, maybe just long enough to have a smoke.

He slipped in behind the cooks, who were moving about and arranging their orders, very easily. They were so busy with their work they didn't even notice him slacking on his. Isaac was past the kitchen and moving through the back where the food was stored towards the loading dock. He rounded a corner, passing several stacked crates of potatoes. If front of him was a metal door with a red exit sign above it. Isaac pushed on the door and it opened for him without any resistance.

The loading docks were deserted and poorly lit. Only a single light above the door illuminated the dark alley that stretched on towards the streets. The dumpsters were back here as well, and even though he couldn't see them, Isaac could defiantly smell them. He reached into the pocket of his black dress pants and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. He pulled a lighter from his other pocket. He struck a flame and lit up the end of the cigarette. He smiled as he let a long stream of smoke flow from his mouth and his nostrils.

Isaac had two more puff of his cigarette before he noticed that he was not alone in the loading docks or the alley. He heard the sound of a glass bottle sliding across the concrete. He turned immediately in the sounds direction. He could see nothing through the thick blanket of shadows in front of him.

"Hello," he questioned the shadows, "Who's there!"

He began to shake. He brought out his lighter and sparked a flame. He held it in front of his face, searching for any movement or suspicious shapes in the dark. However Isaac was playing right into a trap.

With lightning quick speed, a hooded vulpine with green eyes and gold fur sprung from the shadows behind Isaac and delivered a sharp opened palm strike to the coyote's left temple. Isaac let out a quiet grunt as he hit the loading dock's concrete surface, instantly becoming unconscious on impact.

"Sorry pal," McCloud muttered from beneath his hoodie, "wrong place and wrong time for you."

Fox drop down and began searching the coyote, tossing aside the cigarettes and the lighter. He didn't have much on him but a pad of paper and a pencil. A waiter from the way he was dressed. Fox thought for a second and got an idea. He knelt down and began to undress the coyote.

X

Fox stepped through the back door of the Royal Dragon food storage room, dressed sharply in the dark red dress shirt, black vest and the black pants. The clothes were a bit slack on him but Fox would make due with it. He felt that the coyote was just a tad smaller then he was. _'These clothes were really loose on him then. He sure was skinny,'_ Fox thought progressing through the storage hall.

The coyote was now resting in his skivvies in one of the dumpster outside. Fox could imagine he would have one hell of a head ache when he woke up. He probably would smell something awful too. Fox had stored his clothes in his ruck sack which was now hidden behind the dumpster he had stashed the waiter. Resting at his waist was his blaster, held in place by his belt and hidden by both the shirt and the vest. He didn't plan to use it, but if things went south he would be ready.

He emerged into the main kitchen area, seeing how hard the cooks were working to satisfy the masses. He smelt a great deal of good food being prepared. The smell was torture on Fox; he hadn't anything since morning, which wasn't much of anything. But he had come here to find Krystal, not sample the Royal Dragon's finest delicacies. But another idea had popped into his head. _'Why can't I have both_?' Fox cracker a devious smile and put his plan into action.

He was surprised that none of the cooks had noticed the coyote was gone. Fox thought that maybe the cooks didn't know the rest of the staff well. That was good. He was already worried that some one would recognize him, being a public icon and all. But then he thought of how Krystal had convinced everyone of who she was. He figured he could do the same as well.

He got to the far side of the door when a phone on the wall by the kitchen exit rang. He was going to ignore it and continue through the door, but he was stopped.

"Somebody get that," a cooked cried from his station.

"Can't," a hound replied, station the closest to the phone, "got an order to fill."

"Well somebody get it," the first demanded again.

"Where're the waiters, get one of them to do it," another barked from a large fire grill.

"Hey there's one right there! Hey you," Fox stopped dead in his tracks, "Yeah you at the door! You deaf or somethin'? Answer the damn phone!"

Fox spun around and tried to act as normal as possible, "Right sorry about that, I got it." But inside his head Fox was thinking, _'Rudest cooks I've ever met.'_

Fox reached and grabbed the phone, "Hello, Royal Dragon kitchen. You order it we serve it. Can I help you?"

His heart nearly stopped at the voice on the line, "Yes, I'd like to order room service please." It was Krystal.

Fox's heart was pumping in his chest. He hated coincidences. Sometimes he thought of them as God's way of making you laugh or making Him laugh. In this case, Fox was sure God was laughing.

Fox answered back as calmly as possible, "Very well ma'am, what will you be having?" Fox brandished the paper and pencil he swiped off the waiter he had jumped. There was a short pause before Krystal answered back.

"I'm not sure. Surprise me," Fox had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. That was totally Krystal. He imagined if it had been anyone else to pick up the phone, they would have asked her to make a solid decision. Fox guessed she was lucky he picked it up. Or maybe it wasn't luck… Maybe she had recognized the voice of the man on the phone with her. But if that was the case, why hadn't there been any kind of confusion in her voice.

"Ok," Fox pretended to sound confused, "I'll put that order in and we'll have it up to you soon."

"Thank you," Krystal hung up. Right when she did Fox realized that he hadn't asked her which floor she was on. Fox cursed himself from under his breath and the looked at the phone. It had a digital display and the caller ID said "Pres. Suite".

Fox looked up to the cook nearest him. "Hey, which floor is the presidential suite on?"

The hound answered without looking up, "Top floor, why?"

Fox looked down at the paper. He had written, "Surprise me" on the front page. _'All right, I will. And it will be one hell of a surprise Krys,' _Fox thought tearing the page out of the pad and crumpling it up and tossing it in a near by trash can. He took the pencil and began writing an order down. He thought about the main dish and then about Krystal. He jotted down one of her favorite meals, one that he himself had prepared on their honeymoon eight years ago. He looked at the paper, smiling with his selection.

He walked sat the paper down next the hound cook and said, "Order up!"

X

Krystal skimmed over the hulk of the file. She had gone over it three times in the last hour and a half, and each time she was despising Ducane more and more. The PDA not only included the information she need, but also information that the Cornerians would definitely want. She had found manifests in the PDA that told her of exactly how much cargo they were hauling: Over six hundred different military grade weapons, four hounded and fifty pounds of illegal narcotics, and one hundred women of various species from across Lylat.

All of this was being transported to a secret location called the "Dragon Marketplace" hidden in the expanse on the Meteo asteroid field. No wonder the Cornerians had ever made much progress in locating Ducane's black market. Meteo was as dangerous now as it was back during the Lylat War. With roaming pirate groups, numerous outlaw syndicates, and not mention the asteroids themselves, Meteo proved to be a good place to hide from the Cornerians, and Ducane had already put it into practice.

One of the most crucial pieces of info that the PDA yielded was the location to both the warehouse where Ducane stashed his merchandise and the coordinates to the market place. With this, the Cornerians would have plenty intel to launch the assault against Ducane. All that remained was to meet with the under cover Cornerian agent she had been told about when she under took the mission.

The question that worried her was when and where was he going to show up? They were running out of time to pull this off, and the clock was still ticking. Krystal sat the PDA down on the glass coffee table and laid back in the futon. She brought the bulk of her long cerulean hair in front of her and began to run her fingers through it. She laid her braided tail down on her lap. She felt so tired, not physically but mentally, which was understandable having a second consciousness in her mind.

'_I'm so bored,'_ Kursed whined in her cage within Krystal's mind,_ 'I hope things tomorrow are more exciting then today. You've been holding me back.'_

"For good reason too," Krystal spoke out loud, rubbing her temples from the massive headache she got from speaking with the Kursed.

'_You know you're really irritating,' _Kursed spat. _'If you weren't so serious and high strung all the time you'd be a lot more fun to be around. I think you need to get laid. That should liberate all that tension.'_

There was a bit of laughter in her voice at the end if that sentence. Krystal often considered Kursed an intelligent manifestation of her violent and lustful sides. She often tempted Krystal with the longing to be with a man, but she always pushed Kursed away. She hated Kursed with every living once of her soul, and Krystal was sure that Kursed felt the same towards her.

A knocking came from the suite door at the other end of the room. Krystal got up, unconsciously grabbing her blaster and shoving it in the holster on her waste. She got up to the black color door and pressed her body against it.

"Yes," Krystal chimed to the man on the other side of the door.

"Room Service," he responded back. The voice was strong, and eerily familiar…

'_That voice…' _Kursed spoke in Krystal's head, but Krystal had stopped listening.

Krystal's hand went to the lock and twisted it unlocking the door. She opened the door and stepped back so as to conceal her face from the man. He wheeled in a metal serving table with two bowled food containers on top. In the middle of them both was a silver wine bucket with ice filled to the brim. Inside the bucket was and unopened bottle of champagne that looked quite cold in the ice filled bucket. Two tall crystal glasses sat next to the bucket, ready for the champagne.

Krystal took a quick glance at the man, which turned into a shocked stare. At that moment, Krystal and Kursed, two minds inhabiting one body, instantly recognized the man that stood in front of them. And the emotions felt were that of joy, relief, and love, but also of anger, fear, and hate.

Krystal was about to cry out his name when Kursed broke free. Kursed was screaming, '_NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! NOT HIM! He'll ruin everything! I will not let him have her! I will NOT let him have me! He will not have use!'_

Krystal, realizing Kursed had escaped the mental cage inside her mind, screamed. Her hands went to her head and she fell to her knees screaming, "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

Kursed just kept on, forcing control from Krystal saying, "He left! He betrayed us! He will die for it!"

X

Fox spun around at Krystal's screaming and saw her with her head in hear arms. He rushed over to her, kneeling down and putting his arms on her shoulders.

"Krystal," he yelled to the cerulean vixen. She kept screaming and muttering and shaking before him.

"Krys! It's ok! It's me, Fox," he shouted, "It's Fox, Krystal!"

At that moment the screaming stopped. Krystal stopped shaking and stopped speaking in the strange, muttering voice he had heard. She was still as the grave, her breathing barley audible.

And then she spoke. "I know," the voice said. But it wasn't Krystal.

It was Krystal, but at the same time it wasn't. The Krystal's voice was soft, gentle, and calm. This voice, it had Krystal's accent and it had her general sound, but… it was… darker.

Suddenly, the blue vixen violently shoved Fox backward, sending his head knocking into the side of the serving table he had wheeled up here. The blinding pain in the back of his skull caused Fox to let out a loud yelp. He quickly recovered one hand on the back of his hand, the other instinctively reaching for his concealed blaster, all while he began to rise. But he stopped when he realized that Krystal had beaten him to that point.

She was already on her feet, a hand steadying a blaster at Fox's head. Fox froze and met eyes with Krystal. But those eyes didn't belong to her. In the place of Krystal's glowing turquoise blue eyes, were two cold lavender orbs that looked down on him with a great deal of intimidation and fear coursing through them. Fox's blood turned cold.

"Who are you," Fox asked without even thinking the question.

She smiled and evil grin and her eyes shined in the dim light, "Fear, in its rawest form." Fox defiantly believed that.

Kursed flicked the blaster upward, "Get up, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Fox slowly got to his feet, his hands now leveled with head. He never broke eye contact with Kursed. The color in her eyes seemed to "move" with the iris. It reminded Fox of the way his eye color had change whenever a Krazoa spirit was inside his body during his first mission to Sauria.

"Krysta-," Fox began before Kursed cut him off by pressing the blaster's barrel into his forehead.

"Shut up," she had hissed coldly. "Why are you here?"

Fox was silent.

Kursed's temper flared. She pressed the blaster harder into his skull, "Tell me why you came here!"

Fox smiled, "I came here for my wife," Kursed's eyes widened. Her hand began to quiver. "Now give her back to me."

Fox moved so fast that Kursed had no time to react or counter. Fox's left arm shot down underneath Kursed's shooting hand and came back up swiftly, knocking the blaster out of Kursed's hand. As soon as he had disarmed her, Fox grabbed her wrists and forced her into the door. She screamed and struggled to get free, but Fox had gotten the jump on her and now had her pinned into the door.

"Krystal, I know you can hear me," Fox whispered into Kursed's ears, "and I want you fight this. Fight this demon! Fight it and take control!"

'_Fox,'_ Krystal was crying inside her mind.

"No! Don't listen! He'll leave us for dead! Don't trust him," the demon mind inside Krystal screamed out loud, bearing her teeth to try and scare Fox, but the act of desperation was not working.

"You know that's not true Krystal," Fox said, "I made that mistake once. I'll never make it again, as long I live."

Fox faced the blue furred vixen. "Krystal… I love you." He brought her in and kissed her. She stop struggling, stopped screaming. Inside, Kursed was screaming. It was like some one had set her on fire. She couldn't understand, _'His wife? Wife! You lied to me! You traitor! You told me you left him! You lied!'_

'_Yes I lied to you. No, I didn't leave him. I love him, I don't love you. You can rot for all I care,' _Krystal said standing over Kursed who was on her knees, holding her self in her arms.

Kursed spoke back, sounding as if she had been wounded, _'I'll get back at you. I know you. You'll need me again one day, and when you do, I'll make you regret this!'_

Krystal shut Kursed away in her cage, back in the dark recesses of her mind. She took control of her mind and her body. And she was never so happy to do so. Fox still had her in the deep, passionate kiss, and when she came back. She kissed back.

Krystal wrapped herself around his body, her legs going around his waist and her arms tightening around the back of his neck and shoulders.

The kissing pair broke off briefly so they could both catch their breathe, Krystal muttered, "You came for me. You came." Her words began to choke up as Krystal began to cry. She embraced him, burying her face in his neck. Fox kissed her on her cheek and then down her neck.

"You sound surprised," Fox said between the kisses.

Krystal let out a crying laugh. She looked at him, eyes full of tears. It was like a dream. She had been waiting for her nightmare end since the first few months that she had taken the job. And now she felt that nothing could hinder her. She finally felt herself again. And now she had the man she loved again. She kissed him again.

The food Fox brought up would get cold. They completely forgot about it. But they didn't forget about the champagne. That night, they forgot about their worries, the mission, and their enemies. All that concerned them was each other. That night, they laid down together as husband and wife for the first in six months.


End file.
